SATURDAY EVENING. 



BY THE AUTHOR OF 

NATURAL HISTORY OF ENTHUSIASM. 



Ov crj teXoq ?/ ava-Kavvic' 

ylverai yap evekcl t7\q tvepyelag. 

i i J 

THE FOURTH THOUSAND. 



LONDON : 
HOLDS WORTH AND BALL, 

AMEN-CORNER. 
MDCCCXXXIV. 




LONDON 



H. CLAY, PRINTER, UREAD-STREET-HILL. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



Although the Author dedicates his pen to the ser- 
vice of Religion, he would not seem (layman as he is) 
to trench upon the season, any more than upon the office 
of public instruction. Yet there remains open to him 
the Saturday Evening, which devout persons, whose 
leisure permits them to do so, are accustomed to de- 
vote to preparatory meditation. 

The Author does not deny that, in his choice of a title, 
he had an allusion to the expectation, now very gene- 
rally entertained by Christians, that our own times are 
precursive of the era of Rest which the Church has 
been taught to look for. If only two or three of the 
following meditations expressly relate to this subject, 
every one of them was intended to bear, more or less 
directly, upon those changes in religious practices or 
modes of feeling which naturally are thought of as 
proper to usher in a brighter age. 



By the same Author, 

NATURAL HISTORY OF ENTHUSIASM, 
8vo. 8s. 

SEVENTH EDITION. 



NEW MODEL OF CHRISTIAN MISSIONS, 

To Popish, Mohammedan, and Pagan Nations, explained in 
Four Letters to a Friend. 

8vo. 3«. 



FANATICISM. 
8vo. 105. 6d. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

I.— THE HOUR OF HOPE AND DIFFIDENCE. 
" That day was the Preparation" 1 



II. THE EXPECTATION OF CHRISTIANS. 

" And the Sabbath drew on" 13 

III. THE COURAGE PECULIAR TO TIMES AND PLACES. 

" I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ" . . 29 

IV. LAXITY AND DECISION. 

" That I may make manifest the mystery of Christ, as 

I ought to speak " ...... 46 

V. THE MEANS OF MERCY. 

" The Gospel— the Power of God to Salvation" . . 59 



VI. THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 

" The world knoweth us not" 77 



vi 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

VII. — STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 
" Thy Testimonies are my meditation" . . . 100 

VIII. THE HIDDEN WORLD. . 

" The things that are unseen are eternal" . . .131 

IX. — THE STATE OF SECLUSION. 
" The things that are seen are temporal" . . . 140 

X. THE LIMITS OF REVELATION. 

" And we prophesy in part" 155 

XI. VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 

" When I consider the heavens — What is man ! " .170 

XII. PIETY AND ENERGY. 

" Add to your faith virtue" 202 

XIII. THE LAST CONFLICT OF GREAT PRINCIPLES. 

" The Son of man, when he cometh, shall he find faith 

on the earth?" 222 

XIV. — LICENTIOUS RELIGIONISM. 

" Add to virtue knowledge, and to knowledge tempe- 
rance" . . . . . . . . 234 



CONTENTS. 



Vll 



PAGE 

XV. THE POWER OF REBUKE. 

If thou take forth the precious from the vile, thou 
shalt be as my mouth ; and I will make thee unto 
the people a defenced brazen wall" . . . 245 

XVI. STRENGTH OF THE POWER OF REBUKE. 

Howbeit, in understanding be men" . . . 258 

XVII. THE RECLUSE. 

And to Godliness, brotherly kindness" . . . 271 

XVIII. THE MODERN ANCHORET. 

And to brotherly kindness, Charity " . . . 286 

XIX. — THE FAMILY AFFECTION OF CHRISTIANITY. 

Be kindly affectioned one to another, with brotherly 

love" 296 

XX. — CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 
; For meat destroy not the work of God " . . ,314 

XXI. THE FEW NOBLE. 

; Not many noble " . . . . . 341 



XXII. RUDIMENT OF CHRISTIAN MAGNANIMITY. 

Let him that glorieth, glory in the Lord" . . 359 



Viii CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

XXIII. — THE DISSOLUTION OF HUMAN NATURE. 
" It is appointed to all men once to die" • . . 381 

XXIV. — THE STATE OF SOULS. 

"They all live unto God" . . . . . 395 

XXV. THE THIRD HEAVENS. 

** In thy presence is fulness of joy : — at thy right hand 

are pleasures for evermore" . . . .411 

XXVI. — THE PRECURSOR. 
" Thou wilt shew me the path of life" . . . 434 

XXVII. ENDLESS LIFE. 

** Neither can they die any more " . . . 445 

XXVIII. THE PERPETUITY OF HUMAN NATURE. 

" This mortal — must put on immortality" . . . 461 

XXIX. UNISON OF THE HEAVENLY HIERARCHY. 

" Christ, the head of all principality and power" . . 476 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



I. 

THE HOUR OF HOPE AND DIFFIDENCE. 

" THAT DAY WAS THE PREPARATION." 



No position of the human mind is more pecu- 
liar than the one it occupies when, at the very 
same moment, the reasons of hope seem irre- 
fragable, and yet the motives for despondency 
are overwhelming. It is indeed a common 
occurrence for fond but ill-grounded wishes to 
be contending against the evidence of facts, and 
striving to maintain their hold in contempt of 
probability. And so frequent are these contests 
between our desires and our sober sense, that 
a habit is generated, in all but the most frigid 
minds, of thinking that a natural and constant 
antipathy exists between hope and reason.— 
The emotion, therefore, is so much the more 
strange which belongs to those rare occasions 
when, although hope and reason are actually in 
conjunction, neither can well be listened to. 

B 



2 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Religious hopes, more often perhaps than 
any others, have given occasion to this sort of 
conflict in the mind ; and it has so happened 
because^ while religion presents the brightest 
and the most extensive prospects, and possesses 
too the firmest proofs, nevertheless the visible 
current of human affairs sets in an opposite line, 
and seems continually to be mocking every con- 
solatory expectation. 

More than a few signal instances might be 
gathered from the pages of sacred history (an- 
cient and modern) in which a belief that could 
not be surrendered, because it rested on the 
most solid ground, has been almost forcibly 
expelled from the minds of the pious by the 
contrary evidence of actual facts. And it has 
usually happened, moreover, that the contro- 
versy between hope and fear has reached its 
height at the very moment which immediately 
preceded the triumph of the former. Yet again, 
this triumph has very often been abated by 
the small resemblance which the long-expected 
reality, when it made its appearance, bore to the 
idea that had been entertained of it. 

The crisis of religious advancement, the very 
hour when a fading and imperfect order of things 
has become obsolete, and given way to a better, 
the silent juncture of eras* has usually, or per- 
haps in every instance, combined these peculiar 

* avvrekita riov alwvior. 



THE HOUR OF HOPE AND DIFFIDENCE. 3 

characteristics, and has brought into collision 
hope and dejection ; — both to be succeeded by 
that which hope would hardly recognize as its 
archetype. 

To name at once the most pertinent and 
complete of all instances, we must fix upon 
those hours of dismay to the scattered fol- 
lowers of Christ, which immediately preceded 
the bringing in of light and immortality, by 
his rising from the dead. The companions of 
Jesus knew far too much of his divine power 
and majesty, to throw up their profession of 
his Messiahship, even when it seemed utterly 
irrational any longer to maintain it. How 
believe him to be the expected King of Israel 
who, instead of scattering with a word the mad 
hostility of his foes, had yielded — had been 
overcome — had actually expired upon the tree 
of ignominy ? And yet these simple minds 
" slow of heart," and unmindful of the plain 
forewarnings they had received from their 
Master, and fraught with egregious suppositions, 
knew far too little of the economy of that 
kingdom of which they were to be the ministers, 
to put a true interpretation upon the terrible 
events they had witnessed. Hope was over- 
thrown, and yet could not be abandoned. The 
men of Galilee had " trusted that this Jesus was 
he who should have redeemed Israel." But how 
indulge this belief, while he lay a mangled 
corpse in the sepulchre ? or, on the other 
b2 



4 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



hand, how resign it, while his mighty miracles 
and doctrines were fresh in their recollection ? 

That Sabbath, the last of the old economy, 
was indeed a portentous day. All things shewed 
the same face as heretofore in the thronged 
streets of the Holy City, and in the courts of 
the Temple ; but among the worshippers upon 
the hill of Zion, how deeply troubled were many 
hearts ! Can we imagine that now the Rulers 
and Rabbis were content with their success, 
and quite at ease ? Did the Priest gaze without 
dismay upon the torn veil, and upon the de- 
secrated mysteries of the Holiest ? This may 
not be thought : — the infatuation of crime ordi- 
narily dissolves, at the moment when crime is 
perpetrated; and it is not improbable that, in 
the mind of some, at least, a ghastly fear had 
already succeeded to the joy of gratified revenge. 
And were there not also multitudes of the people 
who, though in favour and affection more un- 
stable than the sea, began to regret that they 
had drawn upon themselves the blood of one 
whom so lately they hailed as the Son of 
David ? 

But in what spirit, may we suppose, did John, 
and Peter, and Mary, the mother of Jesus, and 
the other devout companions of the Lord, attend 
the Temple worship on that Sabbath ? They 
joined in prayer and praise with the crowd ; but 
it was as with a sword in the heart. And was 
not that Sabbath a day of doubt and alarm, or 



THE HOUR OF HOPE AND DIFFIDENCE. 



5 



of suspense, and of dread expectation, or of 
pallid, misgiving triumph, in the unseen world, 
and among the conflicting orders of the spiritual 
economy ? — On this obscure ground it were 
unwise to indulge surmises. But assuredly it 
was the very day upon which were to hinge all 
former and all future events in the history of 
man. It was the moment when the Redemption 
of the world awaited both its consummation, and 
its proof. The sun of that day went down in 
clouds ; but before it again appeared, a Brighter 
Light than that of the sun had already arisen 
upon the nations ! 

Instances less signal indeed, but yet bearing 
the same character, might be chosen at several 
points in the subsequent history of Christi- 
anity. — As when the rage of persecutors, pagan, 
mohammedan, or popish, has so nearly effected 
the extinction of the Gospel, that nothing seemed 
more likely, on the ground of natural probability, 
than that the religion which was announced to 
endure for ever, should cease to be spoken of 
among men. And yet, in these very hours of 
darkness, a new expansion of the Divine efficacy 
of the Gospel was actually at hand. 

If, from the small number of instances which 
the religious history of mankind presents, we 
might at all gather a general rule, applicable to 
other occasions, it would be one of this sort — 
That the hour of Preparation for a better order 
of things is not a time of favourable appearances, 



6 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



but the reverse ; and that nevertheless, at such 
a time, human affairs are silently tending towards 
the approaching change. But shall it ever lie 
within the reach of the sagacity of man to discern, 
at such a time, beneath the surface of events, 
the undeveloped initiatives of good things to 
come ? Probably not. And yet, if we look back 
to almost any one of the instances to which 
allusion has been made, we are rather tempted 
to wonder that the men of those times should 
not have anticipated the then bursting revolu- 
tion, than disposed to think the obscurity of their 
views inevitable. 

We have, in fact, the highest authority for 
attributing the slackness of the first disciples of 
Christ in discerning the signs of that time of 
hope, to a strange and culpable infatuation. It 
is indeed amazing that, after having received 
from their Master, in the most explicit terms, a 
forewarning of his ignominious death, and a 
distinct promise of his speedy resurrection, they 
should at all have admitted despondency (as it 
is plain they did) in regard to his Messiahship, 
when, by the exact accomplishment, in all its 
circumstances, of his prediction, they received 
the most convincing proof of his divine pre- 
science ! It could not have been deemed a 
blameworthy presumption (instructed as they 
were) had they exulted, though with tears, 
while gazing upon his lifeless body, in antici- 
pation of his near triumph over death and hell,, 



THE HOUR OF HOPE AND DIFFIDENCE. 7 

and had even made the rocky garden of the 
sepulchre to resound with songs. Because 
they did not, in some such manner, admit the 
joy proper to the occasion, they were upbraided 
by their Lord, when again he appeared among 
them. fl 

Does it seem immensely to exceed the compass 
of the human mind, if we imagine that some at 
least of the believers of the first, second, and 
third centuries, even at the times of the extremest 
depression of the Christian name, had marked 
the evident symptoms of decrepitude in the false 
worship of the Roman world, had calculated 
upon the natural consequence of the universal 
scepticism of the higher classes, and of the forced 
and hardly-sustained fanaticism of the mass of 
the people, and had seen that the struggle of 
polytheism was an expiring struggle, and that 
errors so extreme must ere long fail before the 
Divine excellence and vigour of the doctrine of 
Christ ? Because the immediate power of God 
was engaged in the spread and triumph of the 
Gospel, it is not less true that the heavenly effi- 
cacy took its course in the channel of ordinary 
causes ; nor that, when the idols of the empire 
were " cast to the moles and to the bats," the 
event was, in an intelligible sense, the conse- 
quence of the precursive movements of the social 
system. And in these movements there might 
have been discerned, notwithstanding all con- 
trary appearances, the dawn of the coming day. 



s 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



The same, as every one must allow, is to be 
said of the restoration of Christianity, in modern 
times. An act of grace was it from above! — 
but not the less, on that account, the conse- 
quence of the anterior condition of Christendom. 
The closing years of the fifteenth century were, 
in all senses—" a day of preparation, from end 
to end of Europe ; and as much so in the states 
that actuallv received the least, as in those that 
received the largest benefits from the Reforma- 
tion. And there are, in fact, indications that 
the great revolution was dimly anticipated by 
some who did not live to see it achieved. 

But in this, and other instances, it is espe- 
cially to be observed, that the actual preparatives 
were not so much to be found on the part, or 
within the circle of truth and piety, as abroad, 
and on the surface, and beneath it, of that wide 
field of ruin that was to be the scene of renova- 
tion. — At this point it is that human sagacity 
usually goes astray. — Our natural impulsion is, 
when a happy change is contemplated, to look 
for some promise of it to the quarters of light. 
Yet it is not there that the true indications are 
ordinarily to be seen ; but rather amid the gloom 
that is spread on all sides. It is a stirring upon 
the face of the dark waters that gives the prog- 
nostic of the breaking forth of light, and life, and 
order. Does not the Divine Agent, as well in 
his acts of moral, as of material creation, though 
he may take up some inconsiderable existing 



THE HOUR OF HOPE AND DIFFIDENCE. 



9 



element as the germ of what is to come, yet 
produce that which none can deem a mere 
expansion of things that already were in being? 

If a partial or local reformation be in ques- 
tion, we may safely rest our expectations upon 
the probable efficiency of the existing and visible 
means ; for in the detail, the divine agency 
more closely adheres to proximate causes. Is 
it asked whether this or that particular circle is 
to be renovated ? — we look then to the piety, 
and energy, and fervour of those who may be 
attempting to restore it. But on a larger scale 
of things human agency disappears ; or rather, 
bears a much smaller proportion to the ultimate 
result. The work, even though still effected by 
human instruments, belongs to another hand. 
The scheme is here too immense, and too 
intricate, to have been devised and arranged by 
the understanding of man ; and of such exten- 
sive revolutions it shall always be said — " This 
is the Lord's doing ;" — to man will belong only 
devout amazement. 

And now if the conversion of all nations be 
in question — we have before us, first a practical, 
and then a theoretic subject of inquiry. In refer- 
ence to the former, no difficulty can be started. 
The duty of every Christian to promote piety 
within his family, and his neighbourhood, is 
clear and imperative ; and the most distant 
missionary enterprise (if prudently undertaken 



10 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



and conducted) is nothing else than an extension 
of the charity which we severally owe to our 
neighbour. A village of England, and a village 
of India, are the same in the sight of Christian 
zeal, if it comes within our power to convey to 
the inhabitants of either the knowledge of God 
and his Gospel. 

It is manifest that no opinions we may enter- 
tain relative to the second, or theoretic question, 
concerning the conversion of the world, can 
properly interfere, in the smallest degree, with 
what we are called to do, personally, for the 
conversion of those (far or near) who may stand 
within the circle of our influence. Truly it is 
a pitiable imbecility of mind that leads certain 
persons to withdraw from the field of evangelical 
labour, because they surmise that the vast de- 
signs of Heaven are soon to be accomplished by 
other agency, or in a manner of its own choice. 
What ! are not our own children to be taught to 
read, to praise, to pray, until we have divined 
the fate of China and of India ? Yet it is 
plain we might as reasonably put to a stop the 
routine of domestic instruction, on some such 
fantastic plea, as cease to send Bibles and 
teachers to the children of China or of India, 
on the same ground. To do so is indeed miser- 
ably to confound the practical with the theoretic 
— the certain with the doubtful. 

A consideration of the theoretic question 



THE HOUR OF HOPE AND DIFFIDENCE. 1 1 

concerning the probable conversion of mankind, 
if rightly interpreted, and wisely used, instead of 
tending to enhance or to give colour to any 
such indolent delusion, would at once greatly 
stimulate our zeal, and (which perhaps is still 
more to be desired) would simplify our motives, 
free the heart from a too onerous solicitude, 
render us more tranquil amid reverses ; and es- 
pecially, would lead us, with more reverence to 
wait upon God for the fulfilment of his promises. 
In the preparation, and arrangement, and govern- 
ment of our evangelic institutions, it must be 
confessed that we have too slenderly admitted 
the principles of human prudence ; while in our 
expectations and surmises of what is to be the 
issue of these endeavours, we have too much 
gone on the ground of those secular principles 
which we profess to renounce. This species of 
inconsistency besets the human mind at every 
turn. 

It may be — who shall deny it ? that the zeal 
which now animates a thousand bosoms, shall 
ere long animate the bosoms of a million ; that 
for every ten, who now devote themselves to the 
service of the Gospel, there shall stand forth a 
hundred ; that printing, and translation, and 
teaching, shall, year after year, with rapid in- 
crease, fill wider circles. It may be, that the 
Christians of this age, or the sons of the present 
movers of missions, may become so devoted, 
and so wise, and may so receive power from 



12 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



above, as that obstacles and opposition shall 
give way, and the field — the field of the world, 
be vanquished by their hands. Such, perhaps, 
is the destined order of the Divine compassion 
to mankind. And assuredly we should act and 
pray in hope of it, This is our circle ; here 
is our part; and whatever may be the issue, 
faithful service, rendered on this ground, shall 
not lose its reward. 

But it is altogether in another direction that 
we should look, when we venture to inquire 
whether the present era may be thought a day 
of extended preparation, precursive of the pro- 
mised Sabbath of mankind. A theme like this 
is far greater than that it should connect itself 
with a catalogue of our societies ; or with the 
sum total of subscriptions ; or with the extent 
of our foreign labours ; or, in a word, with any 
circumstances that belong to the present con- 
dition, or efforts, of the Christian church. 
Rather we should cast the eye beyond the walls 
of the sanctuary, and meditate upon the scene 
of disorder around. 



II. 



THE EXPECTATION OF CHRISTIANS. 

"AND THE SABBATH DREW ON." 



Shall we look then for a moment to the 
present religious condition of mankind? If it 
were allowable so far to extend an apostolic 
axiom as to apply it (confessedly beyond its 
proper scope) to the actual state of polytheistic, 
mohammedan, and popish superstitions, in all 
quarters of the world, the brightest hopes which 
Christians of late have indulged, would be at 
once authenticated. " That," says the writer 
of the epistle to the Hebrews, " that which has 
become antiquated and decrepit with age, is nigh 
to its final disappearance."* 

The capital circumstance, distinguishing the 
religious state of mankind in our own times, 
as compared with any other eras concerning 
which history enables us at all to form an 
opinion, is that air of dotage which belongs, 
without exception, to every one of the leading 
superstitions of the nations. There have been 

* To ce TtaXaLovfievov /cat yrjpaffKov, eyyvg cKpavifffxov. 



14 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



times when, if some were on their wane, others 
were in full vigour, or just starting forth from 
their cradle with a giant strength. If we track 
the course of time during the lapse of four-and- 
twenty centuries, we shall find this to have been 
the case in each period. In each there was, at 
this or that point within the circle of historic 
light, or its penumbra, some form of religious 
error which then firmly grasped the minds of 
the nations that were its victims. 

But although our knowledge of the human 
race is now incomparably more extensive, and 
accurate, than ever has been heretofore pos- 
sessed, we can descry, in no direction, a hale 
and mantling religious delusion, such as threatens 
to become invasive, or which attracts the eyes 
of mankind by the proofs it is giving of its sway 
over the imagination and the turbulent passions 
of our nature. The contrary is the fact, and it 
is so in every zone. Manifestly the demons are 
holding the reins of their power with a tremulous 
hand. The spirit of " counsel and might" has 
left them ; and the spirit of enterprise and bold 
imposture has also departed. It seems as if 
neither courage nor concert were longer to be 
found in the halls of aerial government. And 
not only is every extant form of error ancient — 
most of them immemorially so ; but every form 
is imbecile, as well as old. Or if we would seek 
a phrase that should at once describe the present 
condition of false religion, universally, we can 



THE EXPECTATION OF CHRISTIANS. 15 

find none more significant than the expression 
already quoted ; the errors of mankind are now 
" antiquated, and in their dotage." — Dare we so 
far penetrate futurity as to add — " They are 
ready to vanish away"? 

A theme so copious as this, and one in con- 
nexion with which a powerful impression on the 
mind may unconsciously operate to mould facts 
to its own form, should perhaps hardly find a 
place at all, where only a page can be given to 
it. Nevertheless its high significance at the 
present moment may excuse its introduction ; 
and if the writer exaggerates, every reader almost 
has at hand the means of reducing his statement 
to the dimensions of truth. 

But in taking the glance we propose at the 
religion of the nations, our special intention 
must not be lost sight of. We are not labouring 
to prove that the human race, generally, is now 
in a condition which shall render our evangelic 
enterprises easy and rapidly successful. This is 
a matter we do not touch. Nor are we about 
to say that some extraordinary revolution of the 
human mind, in matters of religion, is at this 
time clearly prognosticated by any visible symp- 
toms of change. This might perhaps be alleged, 
and made to appear in some degree probable ; 
but it is not our purpose to advance any such 
affirmation. Our theme is simply this — That if 
there be independent reasotis for surmising that a 



16 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



great and happy change is not very distant — 
then, the actual condition of mankind, in matters 
of religion, unparalleled as it is, should engage 
profound attention, and may well be assumed as 
singularly corroborative of such an expectation. 
In a word, if it be conjectured that now, at 
length, "the Sabbath made for man" draws on, 
then does the aspect of the time we live in, well 
suit the description of " a day of preparation." 

We will hastily glance then at the superstitions 
of the nations. 

To the lowest stage of moral and civil ex- 
istence in which man is anywhere found, that, 
for example, of the tribes of southern and 
central Africa, of the aborigines of Australia, 
and of the rude occupants of the coasts of 
the Frozen Sea, to the naked and wandering 
Troglodyte, and the Ichthyophagus, find him 
where we may, nothing properly historical be- 
longs. Not only have such races no records, 
and no tradition (or none worthy of the name) 
but the whole of their condition is the product 
of immediate physical causes ; not of moral and 
political causes, which, to be understood, must 
be followed up through the ascent of time. An 
inheritance in history is a rudiment of greatness, 
and of improvement too, of which such abjects 
are destitute : or if we must speak of the religion 
of such tribes, nothing presents itself but the 



THE EXPECTATION OF CHRISTIANS. 17 



mere germs of that instinct of Invisible Power 
which neither misery nor vice can wrench from 
the human breast. Nations of this lowest class 
are always, and they are so alike in every age, 
prepared for any change of which their parti- 
cipation of moral faculties may render them 
susceptible. It is the glory of the Gospel, in 
our day, to have conferred, even upon some 
such, the dignity of virtue and piety. 

The heroic savage who stalks through the 
wilderness of America, and the pallid Mongul 
and feverish Tartar of central Asia, and the 
luxurious islander of the Southern and Pacific 
Ocean, are men upon whose visage, and in whose 
customs and belief, we read the characters of a 
distant age : they all may boast an ancestry, 
and all possess memorials of the past. They 
are not the mere progeny of the desert, born of 
oblivion, and destined to oblivion ; but the de- 
scendants of men ; and the races they belong to 
are the wrecks of primitive empires. In looking 
at the modern representative of one of those 
ancient families, it is seen that a personage of 
princely birth has wandered far from his patri- 
mony, has fallen from his rank, has endured 
many degradations, has forgotten his rights ; 
nevertheless there is an inalienable greatness 
about him, and even the trumpery of the orna- 
ments he wears contains proof of his noble 
lineage. Their religion, like every thing else 

c 



18 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



that distinguishes these impoverished families, is 
a relic ; and it is a relic faded in colours, and 
decayed. If the history of the subjugation of 
the empires of Mexico and Peru, and if that of 
the Tartar conquests of the middle ages, and if 
the imperfect notices of the ancient Scythian 
nations, preserved by the Greek writers, may 
be taken as affording the means of compa- 
rison between the present and the past reli- 
gious condition of those classes of the human 
family of which we are speaking, it is quite 
manifest that the dimness and the irresolution 
of extreme age have come upon all their super- 
stitions. The force of the fanaticism these sys- 
tems once engendered is spent : the demon is 
less the object of terror than he was, and is less 
often, and less largely, propitiated with blood; 
and the priest too is less a prince, and more a 
mercenary. Yes, and symptoms have appeared, 
even in this class — of incredulity and reason. 
No phrase can better describe these now-fading 
errors, than that already quoted — they are 
" superannuated, and decaying with age." 

By civilization and industry, but not in mat- 
ters of religion, the Chinese is entitled to take 
rank above his northern neighbour, cousin, and 
conqueror, the Mongul. In truth it must 
hardly be said that there is any thing of religion 
in China, if we deduct, on the one hand, what is 
purely an instrument of civil polity, a pomp of 



THE EXPECTATION OF CHRISTIANS. 19 

government ; and on the other, what is mere 
domestic usage, or immemorial decoration of the 
home economy. Ages have passed away since 
mind, or feeling, or passion, animated the super- 
stitions of this people. The religion of China is 
now not only as absurdly gay, but as dead at 
heart, as an Egyptian mummy, and is fit only to 
rest where it has lain two thousand years : — 
touch it, shake it, it crumbles to dust. Let 
but the civil institutions of China be broken up, 
and we might look about in vain for its gods. 

But may not at least the gorgeous superstitions 
of India boast of undiminished strength, as well 
as of venerable age ? Antiquated as they are, 
can we affirm that they totter ? Less so, it may 
be granted, than any other forms of false religion 
upon earth. They were born for longevity ; 
they are the very offspring of the climate, and 
almost as proper to it as its prodigious and ve- 
nomous reptiles. But can it be said of these 
illusions, firm as they still seem, that they have 
not been brought into jeopardy during the last 
fifty years, and especially of late ? Is there not 
even now, in the fanaticism of India, more of 
usage than of passion ? And we well know that 
the crisis of a profound religious system, such as 
Hindooism, such as Romanism, comes on, when 
the enormities which once were cruel and sin- 
cere, begin to be simply loathsome and farcical. 
Besides ; does not the strength of the religion 

c 2 



20 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



of India consist in the credit of the Brahminical 
order ? — The beard of the Brahmin is the secret 
of its power ; but, like the locks of Samson, how 
readily may it be lost! The credit of the Brah- 
min rests upon the unnatural partition of the 
people by caste ; and this partition is hastening 
to decay. 

If our question related to the probable facility 
with which the Gospel, in our hands, might pre- 
vail over the delusions of the Hindoo, it would 
be one of very difficult solution. But we ask no 
more than this — Whether the superstitions of 
India, and of the adjacent countries, do not par- 
take (even admitting their actual hold of the peo- 
ple) of that character of superannuation which 
now so remarkably belongs to every other form 
of impiety in the world ? We scruple not to 
assume the affirmative. 

Those fanciful analogies which it has become 
the fashion, abroad, to employ for the illustration 
of the history of nations (much to the hurt of 
all sound principles of evidence) are to be care- 
fully avoided. Or at least we should not build 
an argument upon any such uncertain ground. 
This caution premised, it must be confessed 
that, in contemplating as a whole the history 
of the two magnific superstitions which now 
sway all the nations of the middle stage of 
civilization, embracing the south of Europe, the 
south of Asia, the northern regions of Africa, 



THE EXPECTATION OF CHRISTIANS. 21 

and South America, it is difficult (in regard to 
both of them alike) to exclude from the mind 
the resemblance which their rise, progress, and 
decay, bears to the course of human life, from 
the vigour of youth, to the decrepitude of age. 
Is it not as if the nations we have mentioned, 
were now in tutelage, under the hand of a vene- 
rable pair — male and female, both equally 
stricken in years ; and both equally petulant, 
jealous, rigid, and effete ; and very likely to go 
to their sepulchres in company ? 

The grave and masculine superstition of the 
Asiatic nations, after employing the hot blood of 
its youth in conquering the fairest regions of 
the earth ; spent a long and bright manhood 
in the calm and worthy occupations of govern- 
ment and intelligence. During four centuries 
the successors of Mohammed were the only men 
the human race could at all boast of. In the 
later season of its maturity, and through a 
lengthened period, the steadiness, the gravity, 
and the immovable rigour, which often mark the 
temper of man from the moment when his ac- 
tivity declines, and until infirmity is confessed, 
belonged to Islamism, both western and eastern. 
And now, is it necessary to prove that every 
symptom characteristic of the last stage of human 
life attaches to it ? Mohammedan empire is 
decrepit;— Mohammedan faith is decrepit; and 
both are so even by confession of the parties. 
In matters both civil and religious, those days 



22 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



are come upon this superstition in which — " the 
sun, and the moon, and the stars, are darkened ;" 
nor do the clouds (of refreshment) return after 
the rain. And the keepers of the house tremble ; 
and the strong bow themselves; and the grinders 
(the powers of mechanic art and trade) cease, 
because they are few. And they that look out 
at the windows (the learned class) are darkened. 
And the doors are shut in the streets (by jea- 
lousy and depopulation) and the wakefulness of 
conscious danger is upon it ; and the daughters 
of music (revelry) are brought low ; and fears 
are in the way ; and desire faileth. 

Is it then a gratuitous assumption, advanced 
only to give completeness to an argument, when 
we say — That the religion of the Prophet is now 
in its stage of extreme decrepitude ? 

But in what terms are we fairly to describe the 
present health and powers of the haggard Super- 
stition of the West ? If the strength of immor- 
tality indeed be in her, to what region has now 
the vital energy retired ? is it kindling about 
the heart ? is it within and around the pestilen- 
tial levels of the Tiber, that we are to find the 
concentration of force, and the fervour that 
should belong to the centre of a living body ? 
Or may we choose among the extremities ? Is 
the Catholic faith otherwise than decrepit, as it 
exists in the midst of the sceptical intelligence 
of the north of Italy; or by the side of the 



THE EXPECTATION OF CHRISTIANS. 23 

mystical unbelief of Germany ? Or shall we 
prefer the mockery of France, to the debauchery 
of Spain, and the corruption of Portugal, when 
we are thus in search of the power and promise 
of popery ? But perhaps it is Ireland that is to 
be the asylum of the true and indestructible 
religion ! Those who can console themselves 
with such a supposition, shall not be disturbed 
in their dreams ; and yet will we not hold our 
conclusion in suspense — That Popery, like Mo- 
hammedism, and like every other superstition 
of mankind, is in its wane. Upon the Church 
of Rome, most conspicuously, have come the 
loathsome infirmities that usually attend the 
close of a dissolute life. She who once lived 
deliciously, and courted kings to her couch, 
is now mocked, and hated, in her wrinkles. 
Every ear into which she would whisper an ob- 
sequious petition, is averted from the steam of 
her corrupted breath ! 

The Greek church should not be quite 
omitted ; but if we affirmed that second child- 
hood had come upon it, we should plainly err ; 
for childishness has been its character, even from 
its youth up. Offspring of a decrepit power, it 
has known nothing, in its long life of fourteen 
centuries, but inanity, has cared for nothing 
but toys ! 

The Protestant communities of northern 



24 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Europe are not to be spoken of summarily, 
or in mass. Let them stand aside from our 
survey. The course of affairs may probably 
at no distant time, decide upon their respective 
merits, and shew which of them has lost, and 
which retains, the Spirit of Life. 

Three very distinct inferences might be drawn 
from this remarkable fact (which will hardly be 
altogether denied) of the now antiquated and 
infirm state of every existing superstition. The 
first of these might be termed the Atheistic 
inference ; the second, the Evangelic ; and the 
third, the Prophetic. 

There may be those who, in looking abroad 
upon mankind at the present moment, and in 
gathering up the general- result of all the facts 
to which, hastily, we have alluded, would in- 
dulge the belief that the instinct of religion in 
the human mind is slowly wearing out ; that the 
habitude of worship is being obliterated ; and 
that an age or more to come shall see nation 
after nation renouncing both the forms and the 
substance of its regard to invisible power. 
Against this atheistic inference there lies the 
unbroken evidence of experience in all ages, and 
all places ; not to say, the invincible proof of 
Christianity. 

The second, or Evangelic inference, from the 
same facts, must be granted, by every Christian, 



THE EXPECTATION OF CHRISTIANS. 25 

to be legitimate ; as well as in the highest 
degree momentous. For although it will by no 
means follow (facts prove the contrary) that 
because the grasp of fanaticism is becoming less 
firm upon the human heart than heretofore, 
therefore men will now readily admit the better 
faith we offer them ; nevertheless it is unques- 
tionably an enterprise of more promise, to assail 
ancient errors in this their hour of faintness 
and solution, than in eras when magnificent and 
seductive systems of worship were at their height 
of energy and splendour. If probabilities, drawn 
from the state of the human mind, are at all to 
be looked to, should we not rather, for example, 
carry a mission into the heart of Persia or 
Turkey now, than in the age of Almamon, or 
Almansor ? Or should we not rather (personal 
peril not considered) disseminate the word of 
life in the Spanish republics of America in our 
own times, than in the days of the zealous 
Torquemada ? 

In this sense, the present era may justly be 
deemed the day of hope for the Gospel. No 
such singular conjuncture of symptoms, through- 
out the world, has ever before invited the activity 
and zeal of Christians. And if the pressure of 
responsibility is at all times great upon them, in 
this behalf, has it not now acquired a treble 
weight ; inasmuch as it seems that the antagonist 
powers are fast drawing off from the field ? 
Looking out to the long and many-coloured 



26 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



array of ghostly domination, which stretches its 
lines across plains and hills, we discern move- 
ment ; but it is the stir of retreat : encamp- 
ments are breaking up, barriers are trampled 
upon, standards are furled, the clarion of dismay 
is sounded. This — this then is the hour for 
the hosts of the Lord to snatch their weapons, 
and be up ! 

Ours then is " a day of preparation " in the 
sense of auspicious inducements to missionary 
enterprise ; and on this ground, notwithstanding 
all discouragements, it may be hoped, not feebly, 
that " the Sabbath draweth on." 

But there is yet an inference distinct from the 
one we have named, which fairly may be drawn 
from the present religious condition of mankind. 
We term it a prophetic inference, because its 
validity rests altogether upon the ground of 
those predictions, scattered through the inspired 
Volume, which declare — that true religion shall 
at length be universal. This only being assumed, 
we may attribute as much, or as little value, as 
we think fit, to those special interpretations 
which bring the lines of prophecy to converge 
upon the present age. All such disputable inter- 
pretations apart, it is impossible to compare the 
general sense of prophetic Scripture, with what 
may be called the taxation of the human mind, in 
all countries, without admitting a sentiment of awe 
and expectation. And this sentiment is rendered 



THE EXPECTATION OF CHRISTIANS. 27 

the more intense by the fact, that the decrepitude 
of superstition has been rapidly accelerated of 
late : the powers of its life have sunk apace ; 
and mortal symptoms have appeared in quick 
succession. 

No sound mind would draw, from views like 
these, definite surmises, which must almost cer- 
tainly prove fallacious. But it does not follow 
that we should not contemplate at large, that 
which we may not scrutinize in detail. The 
point of wisdom is to advance as far as it may ; 
and there to stop. 

And when sober conjecture has reached its 
limit, let us turn the eye upon the Christian 
body, and with a much enhanced solicitude, 
examine the soundness of its principles, its 
temper, tendency, knowledge ; in a word, its 
state of preparation for that better day — a day 
of worship and of rest, which many reasons, and 
many appearances, concur to indicate as at hand. 

Least of all should any (calling themselves 
Christians) now feel, and speak, and act, as if 
they abhorred advancement ; or as if decay and 
slumber were far less dreaded by them, than 
change, even of the happiest sort.* 

It were as rational to suppose that the sun, 
and every planet of our system, might undergo 
a vast change of form and constitution ; yet 

* Ovtw Kai {] rf]Q 'EKKXtjcrtag yaXrjin], ^e^ufxevr] (bdupovg 
av'dpojTrove, £a\r\c Kai vavayioiv TrXr/povrai ttoWwv. 



28 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



leaving the earth unaffected and unaltered, as 
it is to believe that a general and simultaneous 
revolution in the religious state of all nations 
could take place, without producing a reflected 
and sympathetic influence upon existing Chris- 
tian communities. 

Let the fond admirer of his own sect, what- 
ever may be its pretensions, assure himself, that 
the conversion of Asia, and Africa, and Europe, 
and America, when it occurs, will so raise the 
temperature— spiritual and moral, of the world's 
atmosphere, as to dissolve to its very elements, 
every community now calling itself a Church. 
All principles shall then invest themselves in 
new power, all notions of good and evil be 
recast, all forms and constitutions be new 
modelled. We shall indeed believe the same 
things as now ; bnt in another manner : we 
shall practise the same virtues, but at a different 
rate, and with firmer motives, and under the 
guidance of an extended exposition of every 
precept. 

Instead therefore of cherishing a blind attach- 
ment to phrases, modes, usages, opinions, which 
are separable from the substance of religion, wise 
and docile spirits, though they may not hope 
fully to anticipate, in imagination, the changes 
that are to be effected, will at least preserve with 
care a state of feeling, such as shall prove a good 
preparative for joining in with whatever may 
attend the expected " times of refreshment." 



III. 



THE COURAGE PECULIAR TO TIMES 
AND PLACES. 

" I AM NOT ASHAMED OF THE GOSFEL OF CHRIST." 



By the believers of the first age it was under- 
stood that the Gospel should in the end prevail 
over all opposition, and that all nations should 
at length do homage to Christ. And yet there 
were moments when the indulgence of a hope 
such as this must have been difficult, and when 
any thing seemed probable rather than the 
occurrence of those events which actually were 
at the door. Justin Martyr, perhaps, would 
have been scarcely less astounded than Anto- 
ninus, if both had together been told that two 
centuries only would see the religion of Galilee 
— the religion of Roman Emperors, and of the 
Roman World ! 

And let it be imagined that Justin, and the 
faithful of his time, could have seen in vision 
(and in its fair colours) the present firm esta- 
blishment of the faith of Christ ; and could have 
known that it should become the profession of 
all highly-civilized nations, and be most honoured 
in that country which was to take the lead in the 



30 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



world, by extent of power, by wealth, energy, 
liberty, and intelligence. In the midst of such 
a revelation of the bright futurity, must not the 
martyr have deemed it a whisper from the false 
spirit, had it been added, that, even in the age 
and in the country of the greatest triumph of the 
Gospel, there should still be room, as at first, for 
the constancy of its champions in maintaining 
their profession ; and that they (like Paul when 
he thought of opening his ministry at Rome) 
should often have need to animate their confi- 
dence by the declaration — "We are not ashamed 
of the religion of Christ"? Christianity has very 
much ground to pass over, and to conquer, be- 
fore Christians may lay aside their courage; 
and if what is most important in their belief is 
to be spoken of, there is little less necessity for 
such firmness of purpose now, than in any age 
that can be named. 

The false shame or timidity which may em- 
barrass Christians when called upon to profess 
the prime parts of their belief, will, it is evident, 
attach in very different degrees to different per- 
sons ; or to the same persons under different 
circumstances, and in different places. It was 
so among the apostles. We grant indeed that 
if those passages of the canonical epistles are 
compared wherein the writers profess the con- 
fidence they felt in the goodness of their cause, 
no inequality can be detected in thS degree of 
their persuasion, severally, of the divine mission 



COURAGE PECULIAR TO TIMES AND PLACES. 31 

of their Master. This is only what might be 
expected from those who witnessed indubitable 
proofs daily of his power and glory. Neverthe- 
less, though the tone of confidence be equable 
and undistinguishable (proceed whence it may) 
it has a specific value in some instances, which 
does not belong to it in others ; and the reason 
of the difference is obvious. 

— As for example. The disciple whom "Jesus 
loved" (and we cannot doubt on account of a 
kindred simplicity, purity, and elevation of tem- 
per) occupied a sphere of meditative abstraction 
which raised him above that level where faith is 
most assaulted : in an emphatic sense he lived 
on high, and looked upon the things of earth 
as angels may look upon them. It is altogether 
in harmony with this order of feeling that we 
hear him calmly (and justly) and like a mes- 
senger from heaven, challenging all truth for 
the church, and assigning all error to the world, 
" We know that we are of God." — 

The confidence of Peter is as entire as that of 
J ohn ; but yet is of a somewhat different cha- 
racter. His native irresolution had at length 
merged in stronger motives ; nevertheless his 
sympathy with doubt or diffidence remained ; 
and his closer contact with the common world 
led him to adapt himself more to the modes of 
thinking of mankind at large. To the Jewish 
people, and to their rulers, he addresses reasons 
specifically proper to the persons with whom 



32 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



he had to do ; and the stripes he received from 
the Sanhedrim were the award of the pointed 
and unanswerable arguments he had left to 
rankle in the consciences of his judges. This 
sort of conviction, founded on the common and 
intelligible ground of external evidence, shews 
itself even when he writes to the faithful: — <f we 
have not followed cunningly devised fables." 
And yet there is a species of constancy differing 
from that which Peter displays, and for which 
we must look to another of the apostles. 

Who shall detect, either in the public speeches 
or private correspondence of Paul, any indication 
of a secret misgiving ? Nothing distinguishes 
his manner more, whether in courts of justice, 
or among his friends, than the highest degree 
of confidence. It is one and the same tone of 
decision, however modified by the specific oc- 
casion, which we hear from him — at the tribunal 
of Roman governors — in the circle of Jewish 
Rabbis — in the heart of a frantic rabble, or 
among Stoics and Epicureans. One and the 
same style of absolute conviction belongs to all 
his epistles, whether addressed to the churches 
that affectionately bowed to his authority, or to 
those that factiously opposed it — to his most 
intimate associates, or to the Christian body at 
large. He is the same man in this respect, 
whether at liberty or in bonds ; and whether 
we take him at the commencement of his 



COURAGE PECULIAR TO TIMES AND PLACES. 33 



apostolic course, or when expecting every clay 
to seal it with his blood. — " Would to God that 
all who hear me this day were altogether such as 
I am!" — "1 speak the words of truth and sober- 
ness." — " I know in whom I have believed." — 
" I am ready, not only to be bound, but to die 
for the Lord Jesus." — " Henceforth there is laid 
up for me a crown of life." — " We are always 
confident, and willing to be absent from the 
body, that we may be present with the Lord." 

And if always fully assured of the certainty 
of the message which he carried forth to the 
nations, no peculiarity of circumstances could 
make him diffident in proclaiming the more 
obnoxious parts of it, Yet to some such cir- 
cumstances Paul was far more sensibly alive 
than Peter, James, or John could be. The 
Jewish prejudice against a humiliated and suffer- 
ing Saviour, and a spiritual kingdom, having 
been at length dispelled from the minds of the 
first companions of Christ, nothing remained in 
their native modes of thinking which could give 
peculiar force to the incredulity either of their 
compatriots, or of the Gentile world. When 
engaged in controversy with the former, the 
argument was a serious one, on both sides ; 
and this argument rested on the ground of 
principles common to both parties — namely, 
the divine authority of the existing Scriptures. 
The Christian teachers urged the testimony of 
the prophets, upon those who reverenced the 

D 



34 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



prophets. The Jew, how corrupt soever in life or 
doctrine, was still a religionist; he understood 
the terms of the Christian argument, was fami- 
liar with its modes of reasoning ; and especially 
he held no philosophical notion which repu- 
diated the belief of a miraculous attestation of 
religious doctrines. But this is a sort of contest 
that does not in the most severe degree try 
the constancy of the mind. Let but our anta- 
gonist be serious as ourselves, and we need not 
care, though he be infuriate. 

And in another manner, even by their sim- 
plicity and want of erudition, the men of Galilee 
were well-armed to encounter whatever they 
might meet with abroad, in the polytheistic 
world. Beside their miraculous powers, and the 
Divine teaching they enjoyed, they carried forth 
the great truths of the natural and moral attri- 
butes of God, and the hope of immortality, and 
the maxims of virtue, among nations whose 
capital errors on all these points placed all — 
learned or barbarous, on one and the same level 
in their view. To them the Athenian was as 
the Scythian — a worshipper of stocks. Was 
the difference in its fashion between one idol and 
another a matter of any moment ? Not to speak 
specifically of the Christian teachers, the Jew 
of that age, by his conscious possession of 
the most important truths, and by his want of 
refinement, and taste, and philosophic sophisti- 
cation, stood in the most favourable position for 



COURAGE PECULIAR TO TIMES AND PLACES. 35 

looking down with just and undistinguishing 
contempt upon all forms of idolatry. It is well 
sometimes to be insensible of diversities which, 
if discerned, are more likely to confuse our per- 
ceptions of some essential difference, than to aid 
our decision between truth and error. To the 
devout Jew one sculptured folly was like an- 
other — neither more nor less offensive, on ac- 
count of its exquisite workmanship. What was 
the chisel of Phidias, what the pencil of Apelles^ 
to the man who had been taught to adore the 
living and true God ? Apollo was as Dagon ; 
and the temples of Greece, as the pagodas of 
India. 

We must not deny that the want of know- 
ledge is a disparagement, lest we seem to take 
part with the despotic advocates of ignorance. 
Nevertheless it must be admitted that, on special 
occasions, when momentous truths have to be 
manfully asserted in opposition to splendid and 
erudite errors, there may be an advantage in 
that sort of rude or blunt force which deprives 
specious sophistry of its power over the ima- 
gination. Plain and insensitive vigour of mind 
may perhaps trample heedlessly on some things 
which deserved a measure of respect : never- 
theless it takes the right course, reaches an 
impregnable position, and leaves a host of frivo- 
lous sophisms in the rear- — powerless, though 
unrefuted. Thus it was, in a still stronger 
sense, with the men of Galilee ; for beside their 

d 2 



36 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



national advantage as Jews, and the unble- 
mished simplicity of their understandings, they 
knew and felt, far better than did the doctors of 
the Sanhedrim, the infinite disparity of true and 
false religion. On the banks of the Tiber, or of 
the Tigris, of the Indus, or the Nile, the Gospel 
of Christ was always their glory ; and they 
saw nothing in the world which, by comparison, 
could for a moment make them ashamed of it, 

But there was somewhat more implied when 
Paul, meditating a journey to Rome, declared 
that he was "not ashamed" of the same doc- 
trine. His possession of miraculous powers did 
not nullify the natural influence of his original 
habits of thinking, or of his education. The 
human mind is so constituted as to admit freely 
the play of independent and conflicting motives, 
even when it obeys one that is paramount. And 
high culture much increases the susceptibility 
of the mind towards diverse or contradictory 
impulses, so that while the uninstructed, when 
borne onward by a ruling principle, forget all 
secondary considerations ; the more intelligent, 
though not less steady and consistent in action 
(perhaps more so) yet continue to hold converse 
with reasons they have repudiated, and to 
traverse again and again the ground of their 
firmest convictions : the more mind — the more 
compass of motive. 

And can we read the speeches recorded by 



COURAGE PECULIAR TO TIMES AND PLACES. 37 

Luke, or the fourteen epistles of our canon, and 
doubt whether Paul were open to the influence 
of a world of things of which his colleagues were 
quite insensible? His general acquaintance with 
human affairs, his familiarity with Greek litera- 
ture and philosophy, his military habits, his 
knowledge of the arts of sculpture and paint- 
ing, beside his native sensibility, and prompt 
discernment of the nicer proprieties of time, 
place, and occasion, would altogether leave him 
unconscious of hardly any of the emotions that 
distinguish highly cultivated minds; probably 
of none. 

A point of comparison, on this ground, be- 
tween Paul and some of his countrymen, deserves 
to be noted. It is well known that not a few of 
the Hebrew nation, from the age of the Mace- 
donian conquests, and during the course of 
the four following centuries, earnestly addicted 
themselves to Grecian literature ; and in this 
ambiguous course advanced as far towards a 
treasonable admiration of polytheistic philosophy, 
poetry, and art, as could well consist with 
their professed attachment to the national faith. 
Some went further than this limit. Scattered 
indications of the incongruous mixture of opi- 
nion which thence resulted, are to be found, in 
some allusions of the New Testament, in the 
apocryphal books, and in the Rabbinical com- 
mentaries. But evidence to the same purport, 
more at large, is presented in the writings of 



38 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



the Jewish philosopher of Alexandria, and of 
the Jewish courtier of Jerusalem. Philo and 
Josephus shew us, each in his mode, what a 
Jew became when he would fain be more than 
a Jew ; or, in a word, what was the aKpo/3varla 
of the Hellenists. 

But it is observable in all these instances, 
whether full or scanty, that the superinduction 
of Grecian modes of thinking upon the Hebrew 
mind was, to the whole extent of it, a corrup- 
tion of faith — an abandonment, or an abatement 
of the proper Jewish spirit ; Moses was disho- 
noured, so far as Plato was admired. Philosophy 
held a place furtively in the mind of the Rabbi, 
and did him little service.* In fact, no schooling 
could make the Jew a Greek, either as sage, 
rhetorician, or man of taste; or only so far as 
it made him a secret unbeliever, or an apostate. 
Philo is an Alexandrian not a Jerusalem Rabbi; 
and at Athens would have been deemed a bar- 
barian philosopher. Josephus is little better 
than a renegade. 

Paul of Tarsus affords an instance altogether 
of another sort. He was as well informed as 
Philo; almost as much conversant with active 
life as Josephus ; he was a reader of the Greek 
drama, and a great master of that mental 
management which then was to be learned only 
within the circle of Grecian dialectics and 
rhetoric. Nevertheless he remains most com- 
pletely national in his mode of thinking, and in 



COURAGE PECULIAR TO TIMES AND PLACES. 39 



his phraseology : it was at the feet of Gamaliel 
that he sat, though he learned lessons elsewhere. 
There is no alien spirit in the writings of Paul ; 
no shrinking from Moses ; no blending of things 
incompatible ; no affectation of doctrines more 
enlarged and liberal, or more refined, than were 
taught by the prophets : he is not now the Jew, 
now the Christian, now the sophist ; but always 
both Jew and Christian ; and as fully so as Peter, 
or as James. 

Beside possessing more native ingenuousness 
and vigour of mind than those of his country- 
men to whom we have just referred, so that he 
was free from the affectation or obsequiousness 
that belong to them, Paul grasped, in a much 
firmer manner than they, the vital principles 
which were the glory of the Jewish people. 
Even as a Jew, and still more as a Christian, 
he was better qualified than they to estimate 
justly the intrinsic value of Grecian philosophy 
and refinement. He knew how to strike the 
balance of merit between Plato, Pindar, or 
Menander, and David or Isaiah. He neither 
repudiated the Grecian literature with rude 
fanatical arrogance, because it was at fault in 
matters of religion ; nor did he labour to deck 
himself in its flowers, at the cost of consistency : 
but while he adhered, in spirit and letter, in 
form and substance, to that peculiar fashion of 
thought and language which the divine oracles 
had set, did not scruple to avail himself of 



40 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



whatever aid might fairly be drawn from a 
foreign source. 

Paul had learned nothing among the Greeks 
which compelled him to be ashamed of the 
prophets : and it may even be imagined that, 
had he not embraced Christianity, his zeal and 
intelligence, and his singular power of adapting 
himself to the notions and tastes of men of all 
classes, might have led him to plead the cause 
of his national literature before the admirers of 
Plato. His eloquence, his ingenuity, and the 
intrinsic soundness of his argument, might (it is 
not improbable) have secured to him some signal 
success in such an attempt; or at the least a 
blaze of reputation. 

And the attempt would have been a noble 
one; but the Lord had "set him apart" to a 
task more noble, more perilous, and far more 
mortifying. To preach " repentance and for- 
giveness of sins" through faith in the propitia- 
tory death of Jesus ; and to preach this doctrine 
in the Grecian cities, and among the schools of 
learning, such was the part assigned to Paul. 
And in discharging it he must have felt, in its 
utmost force, the contempt that covered him as 
the promulgator of a dogma so strange : he felt 
this obloquy in a manner his colleagues could 
not. Not only in the single instance recorded by 
his biographer, but no doubt often in his circuits 
through Greece, and its colonies, he stood sur- 
rounded by the sarcastic curiosity of Stoics, 



COURAGE PECULIAR TO TIMES AND PLACES. 4 I 

Epicureans, and Academicians. He knew, on 
such occasions, in what spirit he was listened 
to, as a busy and babbling zealot of the Jewish 
superstition. He could penetrate — nay, he 
could even feel a sympathy with the erudite 
scorn of his auditors : he understood the senti- 
ment with which men of high culture give 
ear, for a moment, to a tale of wonder which 
they have condemned as absurd, before it is 
commenced. In the oblique glance of the 
half-closed eye, in the sneer that played on 
the lip, he read the mind and malice of every 
sophist. He could mentally change positions 
with his auditors, and at the moment while 
uttering the "strange things'' of the Gospel, 
could feel as thev felt — the harsh and abhor- 
rent character, both of the principles, and of 
the facts, he had to announce. What were 
his themes ? —-Jesus, a Galilean teacher — cru- 
cified — raised to life — constituted Lord and 
Judge of men, and now granting repentance 
for remission of sins. This was his burden, at 
Antioch, at Ephesus, at Nicopolis, at Corinth, 
and at Athens ! 

And yet there awaited him, what perhaps 
should be deemed even a still more severe trial 
of his constancy ; for he bore a commission to 
preach the Gospel " at Rome also." A man 
of cultured mind, whatever special disadvantage 
he may happen to labour under, nevertheless 
feels that, among men of his own order, he can 



42 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



occupy a common ground, on which to gain the 
respect, if not the assent, of his hearers. On 
that ground he may be sure to put flippant scorn 
to the blush. There is a sympathy among men 
addicted to intellectual pursuits, of which any 
one who is truly entitled to do so, may power- 
fully avail himself. But no such advantage can 
be looked for within the circle where wealth and 
sumptuous splendour are in higher esteem than 
learning or philosophy ; and where the arro- 
gance of military and civil rule crush every 
pretension that might dispute honour with their 
own. The proud and debauched metropolis of 
universal empire was the place where, most of 
all, a man of intelligence would feel his immense 
disadvantage, in having to broach a doctrine such 
as Christianity must have seemed at Rome — at 
Rome in the age of Nero ! 

Yet not at Rome, any more than at Athens, 
was Paul ashamed of the Gospel of Christ. On 
the contrary, he " spoke the word with all bold- 
ness," even " in the palace ;" and the fruits of 
his constancy were shewn to the world in that 
black night, when the imperial gardens blazed 
with the torments of a crowd of the adherents 
of the Gospel ;— the first-fruits of martyrdom, 
offered to the gods by a worthy minister of 
such divinities, and an earnest of the unspar- 
ing oblations with which Rome — pagan and 
popish, should, through a long course of ages, 
propitiate the same infernal powers ! 



COURAGE PECULIAR TO TIMES AND PLACES. 43 

But what relation does this comparison be- 
tween the constancy of Paul and that of his 
colleagues bear to the position, or the conduct 
of Christians in our own age and country ? — 
We think one that is significant, and easily 
applied. 

At certain eras the great evangelic doctrine, 
the glorious truth of remission of sins through 
faith in Christ, has been in the hands, almost 
exclusively, of men of the simplest order;- — 
of men who, in mental qualities, in rude in- 
genuousness of spirit, and in want of culture, 
might not improperly be deemed the very suc- 
cessors and representatives of the Galilean 
teachers. To such the world was the World, 
whether erudite or barbarous ; and the full 
confidence they felt in the goodness and divine 
reality of their cause, was never troubled by a 
misgiving recollection, that the intelligence, and 
refinement, and knowledge of mankind, stood 
all in array against them. Such men, though 
they reached their capital conclusion as if by a 
leap, nevertheless came to a just conclusion — 
That the wisdom of the world, when opposed 
to the doctrine of Christ, is essential folly. 
They were not ashamed of this doctrine there- 
fore, even when philosophy, and elegance, and 
titles and honours, were combined to denounce 
it. 

Although there may be found among us now, 
in corners, persons of this same class (ingenuous, 



44 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



illiterate, and fervent) whose courage in matters 
of religion costs them no extraordinary effort ; 
the great body of Christians, in our age and 
country, would be very improperly described 
in any such terms ; for they have neither the 
same merits, nor the same defects. The reli- 
gious classes have admitted just that degree of 
general intelligence which, by laying them open 
to influences of all kinds, puts to the severest 
proof the integrity and simplicity of their spirit, 
as messengers of the mercy of God to mankind. 
We say, just that degree of intelligence ; for it 
must not be affirmed (after a very few instances 
are excepted) that the accomplishments and 
mental power of the religious body, or even of 
its leaders, are so fairly on a par with the learning 
and science of the times, as to leave no room for 
the consciousness of inferiority. 

It is not with us now, as it was in the age of 
the Reformation, when the champions of the 
Gospel were men of gigantic understanding, and 
of unrivalled attainments ; men who had no 
competitors or rivals to fear, in any walk of 
learning; men who ruled the philosophy, as 
well as the religion of their times. Nor is it as 
in the age of Jerom, and Augustine, and Am- 
brose, and Gregory, and Chrysostom, when the 
Church moved foremost on all grounds of honour 
and merit ; and when pagan philosophy had 
scarcely a laurel left on its brow. 

We stand midway between the advantageous 



COURAGE PECULIAR TO TIMES AND PLACES. 45 

post of rude ingenuous fervour, and that of real 
or unrivalled eminence in matters of science 
and learning. But a middle position is one of 
jeopardy and incertitude. By all the amount of 
our actual intelligence, we feel the offence of 
the Cross ; and yet our intelligence reaches not 
the point which should set us free from timidity 
in maintaining our profession of it. 



IV. 



LAXITY AND DECISION. 

" THAT I MAY MAKE MANIFEST THE MYSTERY OF CHRIST, 
AS I OUGHT TO SPEAK." 



Nothing would be more calumnious than to 
say that the principal articles of Christian belief 
are not now (in very many quarters) clearly, 
ably, and faithfully announced. There is no 
room for any such allegation or complaint. On 
the contrary, in a multitude of instances, how 
much soever we may be perplexed by the paucity 
of the fruits, we should be quite unable to assign 
any considerable defect as the probable cause of 
the want of greater success. 

This being fully granted, there should be 
noted (and the juniors of the clerical order 
might especially observe it) a cause of abate- 
ment which, in a greater or less degree, very 
sensibly produces its effect within the circle of 
what is termed evangelical ministrations. It is 
the reflected influence of that middle rate of 
intelligence to which allusion has already been 
made. The Preacher of our day has advanced 



LAXITY AND DECISION. 



47 



several steps beyond the position of his prede- 
cessor ; and his hearers have advanced also. 
They have acquired a taste which impels them 
to wish for instructions of a diversified kind ; 
and he naturally endeavours to meet and satisfy 
this desire. While therefore he adheres with 
care to the accredited system of Christian truth, 
and always speaks of the chief points of divinity 
as chief, and of the subordinate as subordinate, 
and is "in doctrine uncorrupt ;" while all this 
may be said, and every ground of just exception 
seems excluded, the actual result — shall we say, 
the gross amount of his public labours, gives the 
proportion of not more than one to ten, to the 
prime truth of the Scriptures. The glory of 
Christ, as Saviour of men, which should be 
always as the sun in the heavens, shines only 
with an astral lustre ; or as one light among 
others. This is a natural, though indirect, con- 
sequence of the intellectual progress which the 
religious community has made. 

That mode of preaching which has been 
affectedly termed — the intellectual, will hardly 
be made to consist with a bold, simple, and 
cordial proclamation of the message of mercy. 
Its intention is not the same ; its means are not 
the same : and the fruit of it commonly will 
be — an obtuse indifference in regard to the most 
affecting objects of Christian faith. The ten- 
dency, at the present moment, of the better- 
informed portions of the religious body towards 



48 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



intelligent frigidity is a grave matter, and one, 
especially, which should lead to a re-considera- 
tion of our several systems of clerical initiation. 
The cause of so fatal a practical error should be 
known, if it be true, that numbers of those who 
come forth upon the church as candidates for 
the Christian ministry, are fraught with all qua- 
lifications, and all acquirements — rather than 
fervour and simplicity of spirit in proclaiming 
the glad tidings of life. 

There should be mentioned in connexion with 
this subject an unhappy consequence that has 
flowed from the natural, but ill-judged ambition 
of young and aspiring preachers to follow the 
train of thought, and to imitate the style, of 
certain eminent religious writers. Now besides 
that imitation must be a disparagement and a 
degradation in a christian minister, especially 
if it spring from motives of vanity ; is it not 
evident that the pulpit and the press ought to 
fill different spheres ? The writer forfeits his 
proper advantage if he does nothing more than 
preach in print : and the preacher forgets all 
that is serious and momentous in his office, 
when he utters from the pulpit, that which, 
to produce its due effect, must be spread before 
the eye, and again and again considered. A 
religious writer may very properly (nay he 
should do so) select subjects, and pursue a 
line of thought, and employ a style, all of 
which are unsuited to the ears of a promiscuous 



LAXITY AND DECISION. 



49 



assembly. Well would it be if, on the one 
hand, our writers always set themselves a task 
more specific, and more difficult too, than that 
of printing pulpit exercises ; and if, on the other, 
our preachers cherished an ambition far more 
becoming, and more truly noble, than that of 
being esteemed masters of an elaborate style. 

Do we then make void the utility of mental 
acquirements and intellectual power in the 
preacher of the Gospel ? Rather, we establish 
the necessity of both. The general advance- 
ment of the people in knowledge demands that 
their teachers should at least move on at an 
equal rate. But the danger we have to guard 
against (danger to simplicity of feeling) springs 
from that meagreness of attainment, and that 
slenderness in the mode of thinking, which lead 
the mind to employ itself most often on second- 
ary matters, and which compel it to spread out 
scanty materials over as broad a surface as pos- 
sible. The capital themes of Christianity are 
best handled, either by those who have less 
learning than our preachers generally possess- 
or by those who have much more. 

There is a mental process of which men, 
whose engagements are intellectual, should 
always be aware. The initial part of it con- 
sists in the expansion, one might say, the scat- 
tering of the faculties over a wide field, while 
new ideas, from a thousand sources, are daily 
coming in. The after-part, wherein properly 

E 



50 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



consists the maturing of the mind; is, in its 
method, the reverse of the first : it is the 
process of concentration and of condensation ; 
it is the bringing of all materials, and of all 
faculties, to a point, upon that one principal 
matter which has been already chosen as the 
worthy object of energetic devotion. In this 
finishing of a man for his work, it may seem 
as if the mental dimensions he had just reached 
were contracting, as if he were drawing back 
from the ground he had occupied, as if he were 
resigning what yesterday he eagerly grasped ; 
but it is not so. The spirit is only gathering 
itself up to act. 

Now if this process be arrested just at the 
juncture of the initial and the conclusive part, 
when much has been collected, but nothing 
compacted, the consequence must be the loss 
of the special advantage of rude, simple fervour, 
and native force, without the compensation which 
more progress would have secured. The young 
preacher steps into the pulpit at the very moment 
when all the blooming petals of the mind have 
spread themselves out to greet light and air ; 
and in too many cases the scorching beams of 
public life wither the blossom, and the germ falls 
to the ground. 

No man of mature understanding, who has 
seriously fixed himself in the great purpose of 
devoting all the force he possesses to the work 
of the Gospel, will think that any kind of 



LAXITY AND DECISION. 



51 



knowledge he may have acquired, or any species 
of mental labour to which he may have become 
familiar, is absolutely unavailable for promoting 
his design. There is nothing extrinsic in lite- 
rature or science, there is nothing difficult or 
profound in the regions of abstruse philosophy, 
there is no habit of meditation or of abstraction, 
which he will look upon as worthless, in relation 
to the arduous and all-comprehensive work of 
leading the spirits of men into the path of truth. 
But then there are none of these acquirements, 
or of these practised faculties, that he will for 
a moment regard in any other light than as a 
means to the end which his soul has embraced. 
To give honour to the Saviour of the world, and 
to lead to the arms of Mercy the lost, is the 
labour he has put his hand to ; and he can 
please himself in nothing, but success in this 
great endeavour. 

We need not be afraid then lest the Gospel 
should be spoiled by learning and intelligence ; 
but we should take heed that both are indeed 
concentrated upon the one worthy enterprise 
which the Christian Ministry has in view. 

It may seem to some persons that, if a ques- 
tion be entertained relative to the alleged abate- 
ment, at the present moment, of the evangelic 
function, a prominent place ought to be given 
to the influence, open or concealed, of the 
heresy which directly oppugns the doctrines of 
' e 2 



52 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



the Gospel. This might have been more proper 
forty years ago than now. There was indeed 
a time of faintness in the evangelical bodies — a 
time not yet forgotten, when a heavy mist, 
charged with death, hung over many quarters of 
the Christian world, and when not a few whose 
lips still uttered 6i right things," were shaken in 
mind, or had lost all inward sense and feeling 
of the truth. But this season has passed away ; 
the victims of the infection have either fallen 
from their places, or have been restored to life. 
And if it were asked how far the Socinian error 
now checks the promulgation and progress of 
the Gospel, or damps- the energy of its friends, 
it would be impossible to make so small a matter 
palpable in our reply. To affirm that the great 
principles of Religion are at present endangered 
by the feeble remains of Socinianism, were much 
the same as to say that the throne and con- 
stitution of Britain are put in jeopardy by the 
lurking attachment of the people to the house of 
Stuart. Socinianism no more makes us afraid 
for our religion, than Jacobitism does for our 
liberties. 

The contrary is the fact. We are even 
strengthened by the heresy that lurks here 
and there about us. The modern history, the 
fate, and the present actual condition of the 
doctrine, absurdly called Unitarianism, is quite 
enough to convince any man of sense that the 
sceptical argument is a mere sophism, even if 



LAXITY AND DECISION. 



53 



he knew nothing of the proper merits of the 
question. And this edifying history and spec- 
tacle does in fact produce a due effect upon the 
minds of men, and actually seals the theological 
argument, as it ought. — Is Unitarianism Chris- 
tianity ? Read the story of its rise in modern 
times, of its progress and decay ; and look at 
the phantom as now it haunts the dry places 
it has retired to ! — is this shadow Christianity ? 
It were well if certain valiant persons among 
us could find more profitable employment for 
their exuberant zeal than that of hunting a 
spectre ! 

Our dangers are of another sort, and far more 
insidious. The long-continued tranquillity which, 
notwithstanding the rage of war and anarchy 
around us, the British Islands have enjoyed ; 
and the exemption of all parties from the fact 
or even the fear of persecution, and the peculiar 
temper also, which belongs to highly-stimulated 
commercial habits, have together produced upon 
our Christian character a settled indisposition to 
give way to powerful emotions of any kind. 
We are indeed fond of excitement ; but in 
the same degree are afraid of agitation. The 
strong workings of the soul, we greatly dread. 
If we feel more than may just serve to give 
animation to a public assembly, we know not 
whither we shall be carried. To allow our- 
selves to fall back upon serious convictions, 
might lead us so to act and speak as would 



54 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



break in upon the conventional serenity of the 
circle in which we move. The surface of the 
waters may be rippled ; but must not be tossed 
with winds and waves ! 

A different order of things around us would 
presently bring into play the more powerful ele- 
ments of the moral life. Events may be ima- 
gined which would mar our levity and break up 
the polished surface which reflects our ease. 
Events may easily be thought of which would 
lead us home to the first principles of the Gos- 
pel, and quite sicken our taste of every thing 
but those principles. Private troubles and com- 
mon griefs, how heavy soever, by no means affect 
us in the same way, or to the same extent, as 
public calamities. The imagination is much 
concerned in the effect which the idea of danger, 
privation, or suffering produces on the mind ; 
and so it is that, although the cloud that rests 
over our single habitation may actually be more 
dense than the gloom which covers all the skies, 
hiding hope and peace from nations, yet it is 
this general gloom, more than the partial storm, 
that avails to dispel the frivolity of the human 
spirit, and imparts a solemn fear of the Divine 
Displeasure. And it is under such an impres- 
sion that the Gospel assumes its just dimensions 
in our sight. The glad tidings of mercy would 
be listened to with a new and genuine joy, 
amid the loud peals of some wide-spreading 
judgment ! 



LAXITY AND DECISION. 



55 



The possible occurrence of such a season of 
powerful emotions, should at all times be kept in 
view. Apart from any actual indications of its 
approach, it would not seem highly improbable, 
if we look to what has been the ordinary 
series of events in the history of Christian 
nations, that the inert elements of piety among 
us are at length to be set at work in a more 
efficacious manner than heretofore ; and this, 
not merely by an extraordinary effusion of the 
Spirit of Grace, but by the operation of unusual 
external causes. If there be, as in fact there is, 
a disposition in some minds to catch at every 
portentous circumstance, and to make it the 
ground of appalling predictions, there is also a 
disposition in others to close the ear against 
those precursive murmurs of the anger of Hea- 
ven which give notice of the approach of its 
judgments. A caution should be entertained, 
as well against the levity of the one party, as 
against the superstition of the other. Mean- 
while it is a plain and simple matter that, what- 
ever measures we should deem necessary if 
distinctly forewarned of impending calamities, 
are not the less proper, because our actual 
forewarning amounts only to the appearance of 
an ominous concurrence of events. 

Or to bring the matter to its specific and 
practical bearing ; — who will deny that, at this 
moment, there are needed extraordinary efforts 
on behalf of the outcast thousands of the people, 



56 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



whom we have suffered to grow up in the heart 
of our Christian land, more profligate and more 
perverted than Hindoos ? While the statesman 
stands aghast at the helpless wretchedness and 
the desperation of a great body of the lower 
classes, and hardly dares sleep until means of 
relief are devised — shall the ministers of religion 
look unmoved at the piteous spectacle, and be 
content to say, 6 We are not bound to care for 
these — they are not of our fold ' ? The exigency 
of the time calls for another line of conduct, 
and demands a disregard of every scruple and 
jealousy, and of all ecclesiastical reluctances, 
as well as of sinister views. The dense masses 
of our atheistic and much-degraded, as well as 
miserable population, should be assailed and 
courageously entered, by men thinking of 
nothing but how they may turn the impenitent 
from the error of his way. If ever it be wise 
and manly to sacrifice the less to the greater, 
would it not now be wise and christian-like to 
break through ordinary and petty obstacles, and 
to contemn frigid calculations, rather than that 
three, or more, millions of the people should 
longer be left as destitute of religious knowledge, 
and of hope, as they are of every worldly com- 
fort ? If certain personages are reluctant to 
assign this indispensable work of popular evan- 
gelization to the alleged indiscreet zeal of sec- 
tarists — the path is open to themselves : the 
crowded streets of our great towns are not 



LAXITY AND DECISION. 



57 



barred ; and how noble a spectacle would it 
be, to see men of the highest order — the 
successors of the apostles, supported by their 
colleagues of all ranks, mingling kindly with 
the people, and inviting the wretched to accept 
the consolations of the Gospel ! Are precedents 
wanted to justify so extraordinary a course ? 
Let then our protestant church look to the 
church of Rome ; and single instances, at least, 
will be found of episcopal zeal not less mag- 
nanimously irregular. Alas ! the church of 
Rome may boast examples of apostolic great- 
ness and intrepidity, which protestant churches 
have hitherto failed to imitate. 

If there seem to be irony in such a propo- 
sition — whence does that irony draw its force ? 
Assuredly no derision would have been sus- 
pected if, in some hour of public fear, it had 
been asked of Cyprian, of Gregory, of Athana- 
sius, of Hilary, of Ambrose, of Augustine, to 
set a necessary example of evangelic charity, in 
publishing abroad the hope of salvation, when, 
to multitudes, that hope must instantly be re- 
ceived, or not at all. Is it true then, that it 
sounds like a preposterous supposition to ima- 
gine a mode of proceeding in our times, such 
as Cyprian, and Gregory, and Athanasius, and 
Hilary, and Ambrose, and Augustine, would cer- 
tainly have adopted, under similar circumstances ? 
— Sad inference, if this be the fact ! 

But it is not warrantable absolutely to con- 



58 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



elude that the line of conduct demanded by 
extraordinary events, will not be adopted when 
a vivid conviction shall be felt that such a 
season is actually approaching. Nay, there is 
reason to hope, that although much inertness 
has fallen upon all religious bodies, as the con- 
sequence of long-continued repose, it will be 
shaken off when that repose is effectively dis- 
turbed ; and that whatever is worthy of Chris- 
tians, and of men high in rank, shall indeed be 
attempted, and performed, in the hour of trial. 



V. 



THE MEANS OF MERCY. 

" THE GOSPEL THE POWER OF GOD TO SALVATION." 



To what extent the sacrifice once offered for 
the sins of mankind has actually taken effect, 
we neither know, nor have the means, in any 
degree, of surmising. The world of spirits is 
veiled ; the inspired writers are silent ; and on 
such a theme theological rigidity, together with 
hold conjecture, should be checked. Mean- 
while it is certain, as certain as the Gospel, 
that the mercy of God has had no other channel; 
and that to each of us, severally, there is a hope 
in Christ ; and no other hope. Nothing can be 
more desirable than that each one should bring 
so important a truth very distinctly before the 
mind : and this may actually be done by a pro- 
cess of reflection not elaborate, or difficult. 

Is there a human memory that bears inscribed 
upon it no one act of deliberate transgression of 
the plain and unquestioned maxims of virtue ? 
If there be, we must exclude the extraordinary 
instance from our present consideration ; and 



60 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



will turn to those whose consciences forbid them 
to advance any such pretension ; and we ask 
them to single out, from the entire course of 
their personal history, that one occasion of 
flagrant misconduct which (by right of its enor- 
mity) first starts to view, when an inquiry of 
this sort is made. We speak of a signal offence, 
not because the most trivial sin would not really, 
as well as the most grave, bear the stress of 
our argument ; but because the mind, from the 
indistinctness of its perceptions, does not act 
decisively, or promptly, unless it be handling an 
object of some magnitude. And now, having 
before us this one definite affair — this unpro- 
pitious transaction, in which we were the chief 
party, or principal, this matter of history, which 
no power of oblivion can erase from the page 
where it stands, which no agony of remorse 
can alter or alleviate, even in the most minute 
particular ; let us look to it, as something (no 
matter how large a space of time intervenes 
between it and our present self) which has be- 
come inseparably linked to our identity ; so 
inseparably, as that it is, and shall remain ours 
for ever — and ours, even if we could take wing 
and escape beyond the bounds of creation. No 
effort, no decree, human or divine, no amnesty, 
can actually alienate from a man his property in 
a crime he has perpetrated. 

Let us then contemplate this companion of 
our existence; and first endeavour to extenuate, 



THE MEANS OF MERCY. 



61 



conceal, or adorn the unpleasing reality. How 
peculiar were the inducements ; how much 
did circumstances in which we were not to 
blame, concur, almost to necessitate the act ! 
Virtue, at the moment, was not on the alert. 
And then the actual injury that resulted was 
not nearly so great as it might have been ; — 
ourselves were the chief sufferers ; — amends 
have been made; — the victim even, has forgotten 
the wrong ; and the world has pronounced a full 
pardon. Nothing then remains,, nothing — but 
memory and conscience ;— it is as if it were not. 
No ; we cannot ourselves fall in with any such 
illusion. There have been cases in which a 
man, disordered in mind, has thought himself 
incessantly followed by some ghastly phantom ; 
he has mixed in the crowd ;■ — he has hurried 
from place to place ; — he has plunged into the 
heart of revelry, and has fondly for a moment 
believed, that he had at length eluded his pur- 
suer : — no ; — at his side the cruel persecutor 
still stands up, and mocks his endeavours to 
escape ! But the crime with which conscience 
holds familiarity, is a far more real and terrible 
companion. In the one case, if the mind could 
but be disabused, and restored to soundness, the 
shadowy form would melt away, and be for- 
gotten ; but in this, the more the mind is sane, 
and vigorous, and calm, the more palpably and 
vividly does our grim attendant stand forth in 
our path. 



62 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Or in order to feel, the more sensibly, the 
reality of our guilt, let it be placed by the 
side of a very possible supposition ; namely — 
that the temptation had been repelled — the force 
of evil passions withstood — the voice of con- 
science, which we well remember to have heard — 
listened to, and a victory actually obtained over 
the trying seduction. Is then the difference 
between compliance and resistance of no ac- 
count ? Is it a circumstance not worthy of 
remembrance, whether a man stands or falls 
before his enemy ? Victory, we should have 
thought much of; but is not defeat as notable 
an event as conquest? If then it may not be 
obliterated, in what light are we to regard this 
deep stain of sin, which has sunk into the soul ? 

— Can we not bring ourselves to believe 
that the common notions of mankind, and the 
affirmations of religion, concerning Invisible 
Government, and future retribution, and the dif- 
ference between good and evil, are a dream and 
a nullity ? This, if it could be done, would 
rid us at once of every uneasiness. True — our 
crime stands on record ; but have we any more 
to do with it than with the forgotten deeds of 
antediluvians ? Alas ! no pains will avail to 
realize any such persuasion ! Even if the irre- 
fragable proof of the truth of religion could be 
subverted, an instinct of the soul remains to 
keep hold of the notion of a moral system, 
and of law and justice. The sense we have 



THE MEANS OF MERCY. 



63 



of the fitness of Retribution flashes upon us, 
in some form, every hour. We cannot read 
a page of history, we cannot listen to the news 
of the day, we cannot walk the streets, without 
admitting the idea, that there must be a vin- 
dication of right : nay, we often court the ex- 
pectation of it ; sometimes as witnesses, and 
sometimes as victims of oppression, or of cruelty, 
or of rapacity, we fly to the belief of ultimate 
justice ; and, even apart from any vindictive 
feeling, are agonized if we imagine that the 
controversy between the oppressor and the op- 
pressed shall never — never, be adjusted. If, at 
any time, the films of false philosophy have 
deceived us into the opinion that vice and virtue 
are one and the same, this sophistry shares the 
fate of other sophistries in practical matters ; 
that is to say, it is instantly and irrecoverably 
scattered by our first brunt with some real affair 
of common life, that appeals to the ordinary 
sentiments of humanity: the illusion fades — 
truth and nature stand out, and speak aloud, 
and we dare not refuse to hear them. 

But if there is to be retribution at all, if any 
crime or cruelty, the most atrocious which 
history records, or which history has forgotten, 
is to be brought to account in an after-life, and 
is to receive its due award of chastisement ; if 
the authority of God, as Governor of men, is to 
be in any manner asserted, and maintained, then 
is it possible to believe that such retribution shall 



64 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



be otherwise than absolutely impartial ? and 
when we say impartial, w r e must mean, at the 
same time, that it shall be in the strictest sense 
universal. It must bear alike, and equally, 
upon every responsible agent, and must come close 
home to the entire merit and demerit of each. 

Shall we suppose that smaller offences may 
escape inquiry, while egregious sins only are to 
be brought into court ? This could not be ; for 
the perpetrator of enormous crimes might justly 
turn round upon his exculpated companions, and 
affirm that, if all circumstances of temptation 
and original disposition were fairly weighed, the 
actual balance of guilt would be in his favour, 
inasmuch as some who had seemed to sin less, 
had actually sinned more, by sinning with fewer 
inducements, or with more advantage for virtue. 
Or shall Supreme Justice take notice only of 
those offences that have in fact been peculiarly 
pernicious in their consequences, and have proved 
the occasions of misery to others ? This mode 
of proceeding would be liable to an objection 
equally conclusive. For the offender, so singled 
out on account of the actual mischief he had 
caused, would be entitled to complain that his 
fate was ruled, not so much by intrinsic demerit, 
as by accidents, over which he had no control ; 
and it would be always easy to find instances of 
much worse intention than his own, which, on 
this system, would altogether escape punish- 
ment. That in fact is no justice, which is not 



THE MEANS OF MERCY. 



65 



universal justice. Justice in its essence is nul- 
lified, and disgraced, by even a single instance, 
and the smallest instance, of oblivion, or inequa- 
lity, or perversion of facts. Who would come 
forward and profess to wish that the law, which 
is taking effect upon his neighbour, should turn 
aside from himself? 

If we reason upon this subject on the common 
and intelligible principles of human nature, we 
do so precisely because it is human nature that 
is in question ; and because God's proceedings 
toward man will (more exactlv than we often 
suppose) justify themselves to all minds, on 
these same well-known principles. If then, on 
one hand, we exhort the theologian not to 
assume more than is contained in such simple 
rules, we adjure the culprit not to assume less. 

But now, may it not seem as if the offences 
of men — themselves insignificant as they are, 
were utterly unworthy of becoming the subject 
of judicial proceedings in the court of Heaven ? 
Unworthy of judicial proceedings ! Is any such 
rule acted upon, or admitted on earth ? Let 
us look to the mightiest empire that ever has 
existed, the sovereign and the chiefs of which 
have taken to themselves so vast an importance, 
that the welfare of whole provinces might not 
be weighed against their most trivial conve- 
nience. And then let us seek for the very 
meanest of the degraded beings that lie obscure 



66 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



in the quarters of want. Is the wretch ambitious 
of distinction ? would he fain draw upon him- 
self the eyes of the mighty ? — does he covet to 
stand among princes ? Let him then insult the 
majesty of government ; — let him but commit a 
crime, and his wish is accomplished. Though 
nothing else could possibly have given him im- 
portance — treason shall do it ; and it shall 
presently be seen, that the highest personages 
of state are busy with his interests. No affair 
of the realm is deemed so urgent as that the 
hearing of the cause should be finally neglected, 
or the accused be suffered to make a jest of the 
royal honour. Whether at last he be condemned 
or absolved, punished or pardoned, the culprit 
must at all events be made amenable to law, 
and dealt with in some manner which shall 
leave no stain upon either the principles, or the 
administration of the empire. And this rule of 
procedure is valid and constant, just in pro- 
portion to the excellence, the equity, the firm- 
ness, the vigour of a government ; and of the 
very best governments this is the praise, that 
justice is carried home to all persons alike, great 
or mean. In a state the most free and wise 
that can be imagined, the sovereign himself 
would never be thought to forfeit his dignity, 
though he were seen to be assiduously employed 
(if needful) day after day, in ascertaining the 
guilt or innocence of the very lowest of his 
subjects. Do we not approve this principle ? 



THE MEANS OF MERCY. 



67 



Unquestionably then it will be found to belong 
to that Government which is absolutely good 
and just. 

Yes, if nothing else can confer importance 
upon man — his crimes shall give him conse- 
quence. If there were no other argument for 
a future life, Sin would furnish one, never to be 
refuted. We need not descend into the depths 
of abstruse reasoning here : the simplest notions 
are conclusive enough. There is a cause stand- 
ing over between the Impartial Judge, and our- 
selves; a time for the hearing and decision of it 
must therefore certainly come. If indefinitely 
delayed and forgotten, all loyal persons must 
harbour dissatisfaction and fear; while all who 
have actually been called to account and pu- 
nished, might fairly protest against the partiality. 
If conscience be but awake, the transgressor, as 
he stands at the verge of the present life, may 
thus anticipate his own fate. — " I have sinned 
and perverted that which was right. — Yet may I 
not hide myself in the darkness of the grave ! 
No ; for God's ministers, and all beings — good 
and evil, shall demand me at the hands of Death, 
and forbid I should be forgotten. The dust may 
not always screen me — the clods may not for 
ever cover me — corruption may not say I 
am lost and gone. The highest tribunal is 
awaiting my appearance ; and unless I am made 
there to stand, the honour of all Government is 
blasted — the perfections of God impugned. True, 

f 2 



68 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



I am personally insignificant ; but yet am party 
in a cause that involves the wisdom, and purity, 
and power, of the Eternal God." 

It is quite another matter to ask how the 
crime and the culprit are to be treated. What 
we have now to do with is only this — That 
every crime and every culprit must eventually 
come under legal and retributive notice ; and 
must, in some way consistent with good govern- 
ment, be finally disposed of. We must grant 
this, or else throw out of our scheme of human 
nature every notion, impulse, and mode of 
acting, that implies law and justice — good and 
evil. If we can actually do so, then let us 
prepare to plunge at ease upon the unknown 
world, even with a thousand crimes upon our 
heads ! 

If not, the question comes — How is the trans- 
gressor to be dealt with ? And now, if we will 
but adhere to those intelligible ideas which 
regulate human affairs, we shall see that, if ever 
any authority, or tribunal winks at offence, or 
allows the offender to elude its jurisdiction, or if 
it remits inquiry, such an evasion takes place 
on one of these two grounds-— either first, That 
the administrative power is felt to be too feeble 
to go through with the cause, in the instance 
of so formidable a culprit; and that therefore 
it is better to put up with the first disgrace of 
not making scrutiny, rather than endure the 
dishonour of declaring guilt, which it has no sword 



THE MEANS OF MERCY. 



69 



to punish; — or secondly, That the offence passes 
up to a higher tribunal. This indeed is a sound 
and creditable reason for the remission of in- 
quiry, or for the non-exertion of judicial powers. 

But when the cause has so been passed up, 
from court to court, and comes at length to the 
supreme tribunal, shall it there be set aside ? 
It may, even there, if the Supreme Power be 
infirm ; or if it be corrupt : in other words, if 
the forms of law and justice are mere pomps, 
of which all men make their mirth. We do not 
indeed deny — far from it, that the First Magis- 
trate, in a vigorous and equitable government, 
may, if he so please, pardon the culprit. But 
we absolutely deny that he can (unless feeble 
or corrupt) fail to take cognizance in some man- 
ner, of each, and of every cause, which, after 
having been remitted in turn by inferior courts, 
is formally assigned to himself as supreme. To 
pardon an offender upon his submission and 
confession, is not to wink at crime, or to lay 
oblivion upon law ; unless indeed pardon has 
so become the standing rule of administration, 
that men are fain to doubt whether there exists 
at all the power or the will to punish. In such 
a case penitence and pardon would both be 
mockeries ; and not to be respected more than 
the motions of wooden figures, the one of 
which always lifts the arm, when the other lets 
it fall. 

Can we actually bring together, or hold in 



70 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



union any such incongruous ideas, as those of 
a system of law and retribution on the one 
hand, and on the other, the practice of Universal 
Pardon, dealt out to offenders by an ultimate 
and Supreme Power ? If all are punished, and 
punished equitably, none indeed can complain; 
nor is confusion brought in. But if all are par- 
doned, and pardoned as a mere act of clemency, 
the very substance of government is made nu- 
gatory. If pardon be the rale — punishment the 
exception, then, either law is blamed, or admi- 
nistration proved imbecile. In good and firm 
governments, punishment will be the rule, and 
pardon the exception ; and yet even this excep- 
tive pardon sullies the brilliancy of power and 
wisdom, unless it is clearly seen to spring from 
some principle higher or more comprehensive 
than the law which has been violated. To 
pardon without reason is an error, on the part 
of a sovereign, of which the same may be said 
as is said of other errors — that though a single 
instance does not destroy a man's reputation, 
the frequent repetition of it infallibly will do so. 
A man may be weak once, or thrice ; and retrieve 
his character; but if he be weak daily, what is 
thought of him ? 

Yet what is it to pardon with reason, but to 
act according to a rale ; only applying, in each 
instance, the rule that is in fact most appli- 
cable to the case. On this principle, the idea of 
blind or indiscriminate forgiveness will be quite 



THE MEANS OF MERCY. 



7i 



excluded from our conception of the Divine 
Conduct. 

And now, whoever can persuade himself that 
it is safe to do so — let him go forward to the 
point where death is to meet him (that point is 
fixed) with his sins on his head ; and take the 
chance, either of not meeting Justice in the 
next world, or of being able to clear himself from 
its demands. And let him go (would it not be 
wise ?) well schooled in those abstruse and con- 
clusive arguments by which it has been shewn — 
that there can be nothing formidable in the 
Divine Character ; nothing inflexible, or firm in 
the Divine Administration ; or that the Most 
High must needs give way to the urgency of the 
case, when the culprits are found to be millions 
of millions in number ! or that He will certainly 
be moved to relent by a candid acknowledg- 
ment of error. The tribunal of Almighty God 
will be a fit place for discussing metaphysical 
principles of government ! And the spirit, just 
shivering in surprise as it has gasped from the 
body, will doubtless be in mood to make the best 
of its own cause, and to plead extenuations ! 

But we would not accumulate terrors, or en- 
deavour to carry our point, unfairly, by kindling 
the imagination. No ; let nothing stupendous 
or appalling, nothing ghastly or horrific, be sup- 
posed. Let nothing be thought of but what 
cool reason, backed by every probability, must 



72 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



anticipate. Reduce then the idea or expectation 
of the ultimate tribunal to the smallest possible 
dimensions ; — let the coming process of law be 
thought of as frigidly as we can. The ministers 
of justice are calm, dispassionate — kind even, 
and mindful only of their duty. Yet assuredly 
they will do their duty. If the methods of 
proof are to differ from those which, of neces- 
sity, are resorted to on earth, the substance of 
the proceedings will be the same. By what 
means soever made known — it is the truth that 
will come out. None shall be wearied by the 
tediousness of the trial; leisure enough shall 
be granted to carry it through. A man's deeds, 
in due succession, shall be recounted ; and the 
most succinct and satisfactory method, perhaps, 
will be for himself to relate them. He may well 
be trusted to do so ; for he feels, at every pore, 
that the atmosphere of truth is about him : nay, 
a blaze of light penetrates his very nature, and 
the table of memory, like the face of an obelisk, 
thickly inscribed, and fronting the sun, may be 
read by all. 

We need do nothing to fill up our idea of law 
and justice in the future world, but take as our 
pattern, the law and justice of earth, freed only 
from the imperfections that attend all human 
affairs. These imperfections are — that liability 
to error which sometimes throws the punish- 
ment of the guilty upon the head of the inno- 
cent ; — and the inapplicability of law to any 



THE MEANS OF MERCY. 



73 



but a few overt acts of sin ; so that it is not 
more than a sample of the wrongs actually 
committed by men upon their fellows, that is 
cognizable to statutes, or liable to punishment. 
How often does it happen that there are found, 
even among the grave assessors of judgment, 
men far more odious in heart, and incomparably 
more pernicious to society, than the haggard and 
misguided wretch who stands trembling at the 
bar ! And how often, in the crowd that presses 
around the scaffold, might hundreds be singled 
out, who deserve to die five times, for the one 
death inflicted upon him whom the sword of 
Justice (blind Justice) is to pierce ! These 
disparagements of human law, though great, 
are irremediable. But the inequalities and the 
errors that thence arise, shall be rectified in 
the world of truth, Every offender shall there 
take his turn at the bar ; and every offence 
shall pass under inquiry ; and the verdict in 
each instance shall be a true one. Who can 
complain of such a course of things as this ? 

Those then may be bold — who have no sin : 
assuredly the tribunal of Almighty God shall do 
such no harm ! Alas ! multitudes have gone to 
that tribunal in the preposterous confidence of 
innocence, who, in the eye of God's impartial 
law, shall be found more guilty than many an 
abhorred victim of human justice ! 

But now what say we of the penalty ?■ — Shall 



74 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



we amuse our leisure by shewing the inconclu- 
siveness of certain terrific and probable arguments 
that bear upon this subject ? Shall we spend 
the hours of life that may remain, in gathering 
reasons which seem to make it less than abso- 
lutely certain, that the very worst that has been 
affirmed or thought of shall prove to be true ? 
Or shall we court those dreams concerning the 
lenity of the Divine government, which the 
miseries even of the present life are enough to 
dissipate ? Nay rather, let us admit at once 
the belief, confirmed as it is by sound reason, 
and established by religion, that there are pur- 
poses, far more extensive and profound than 
ordinarily we think of, to be carried through 
upon the human race, by the vigour of Almighty 
Power. Rather than any longer debilitate the 
moral forces of the mind, by giving ear to flat- 
teries that breathe the very nausea of sin, let us 
take up, as the first axiom of our religious no- 
tions, the truth — That " it is indeed a fearful 
thing to fall into the hands of the Living God ! " 

But there is mercy for man. — " The Gospel is 
the power of God for saving all who believe ! " — 
Whoever will, let him convince himself, if he 
can, that the Divine Mercy might flow in other 
channels than through the Mediation of His 
Son ; — or that it might, without any restriction 
or condition, spread over the world of sin, as 
the ocean covers its bed. All such trifling 



THE MEANS OF MERCY. 



75 



arguments must be left in the rear. — The in- 
fatuations of the sensual and frivolous part of 
mankind are amazing ; but the infatuations of 
the learned and sophistical are incomparably 
more so : or the difference between the two, is 
the difference between folly and madness. 

Every proof that could be made to consist 
with the common rules of evidence, establishes 
the truth of the Christian Religion. The sub- 
ject of the Christian Religion is the controversy 
to which sin has given birth, between God and 
man ; the matter of the Revelation it contains, 
is the announcement of full forgiveness, through 
the Mediation of Christ. And what is the com- 
plexion or character of this Gospel remission ? 
It is not the consequence of an abrogation of 
law. It is not a repeal of penalties. It is not a 
disparagement of Legislative Wisdom. It does 
not bring into doubt the supposed power of in- 
flicting punishment ; and especially, it is not 
such a mere act of grace as, in the nature of the 
case, must not be stretched very far, lest the 
punishment of any should seem a captious se- 
verity, and pardon an unavoidable compromise. 

The pardon of the Gospel — is Pardon for a 
Reason ; that is to say, it is pardon granted 
in compliance with a rule, higher, or more 
comprehensive, than the law which was broken. 
The pardon of the Gospel, therefore, may be 
extended without reserve ; because the reason 
whence it flows is greater than all other reasons. 



76 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Even if it were to appear at the last, that the 
thousand has received pardon, and the ten has 
been left to endure punishment, the principles 
of administration would not be sullied ; because, 
while the demands of Justice are always definite, 
the provision of Grace is unbounded. Grace 
encompasses Justice. 

And yet, if in any manner we surrender the 
Divine dignity of the Mediator, the Reason of 
Pardon at once disappears ; pardon becomes an 
exception, and the government of God is clouded : 
or (and it is a certain indication that the har- 
mony of truth is spoiled) the conscience of man 
receives no lasting peace. Conscience may 
indeed remain in its native slumber ; or it may 
embrace flatteries ; but when once it is quick- 
ened, when once the purity of law, and the 
impartiality and vigour of the Divine govern- 
ment have been admitted, and the thought of 
standing at the tribunal of God has firmly lodged 
itself in the mind, the well-founded fear of con- 
demnation is in no way to be allayed until the 
Substitute of the sinner is known to be the 
very Party whom the sinner has insulted ! 



VI. 

THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 

" THE WORLD KNOWETH US NOT." 



That peculiar species of arrogance termed 
Spiritual Pride, may probably still be found here 
and there within the precincts of religion ; for 
we must not suppose that any evil incident 
to human nature is absolutely extinct. Let it 
then be confessed that there are persons, calling 
themselves Christians, who, confident of being 
the special objects of divine favour, look abroad 
upon the impiety of mankind, and exult to see 
they have so few competitors for the honours 
they pretend to ! 

But as it is usual for the most obtrusive or 
singular property of any aggregate body to be 
imputed to the whole, by those who care not to 
inform themselves correctly of that of which they 
speak, it happens that irreligious men assume 
this same spiritual pride to be, not merely a 
fault to which religionists are liable ; but the 
universal characteristic of all such persons ; and 
if they speak of the separation of a portion of 
the community, on the ground of purer prin- 
ciples than others profess, they deem themselves 



78 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



to have reached the depth of the mystery when 
they tell you, that (incidental causes admitted) 
ghostly arrogance is the secret of all extraor- 
dinary professions in matters of religion ; — a 
theory this, which, to say nothing of it on the 
ground of charity, will be found as consonant 
with truth as those theories usually are, which a 
man frames in impatience and vexation, merely 
to obtain momentary riddance of a perplexity 
that gives him frequent annoyance, and some 
alarm. 

But those who know human nature better, 
and religion better, and the peculiar temper of 
the age better, do not need to be told that, if 
spiritual arrogance has prevailed among Chris- 
tians in certain eras, it has, in our own times, 
very generally given place to a feeling of an 
opposite kind. The very same melancholy facts 
which, a while ago, inflated, perhaps, the pride 
of some self-styled favourites of Heaven, are 
now contemplated by believers in the Gospel 
with a painful emotion, not only of pity and 
sorrow, but of timidity and discouragement. A 
mode of thinking at once humane and compre- 
hensive, has, in a greater or less degree, spread 
through the church ; a new habit of reflection 
on the condition of mankind has grown into 
use ; and in the very proportion that Christians 
have desired, more ardently than heretofore, the 
propagation of their faith, and have done more 
to effect it, they have the more become liable to 



THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD, 79 

an emotion of sad amazement, or misgiving, 
when they think of the state of millions afar 
off, that know not the Revelation of God, or of 
the thousands at hand, that hold it in contempt. 

This sedative and uneasy feeling (ineffahly 
abhorrent as it is of spiritual conceit or elation) 
very naturally attaches in the highest degree to 
those who have the most general intelligence, 
and the most modesty (the attendant of intelli- 
gence) and who are also much conversant with 
the world ; and who, moreover, are accustomed 
accurately to weigh peculiar claims and profes- 
sions. Such persons, and not a few such are to 
be found, could as soon draw a sinister and 
malign gratification from the disobedience of a 
son — the treachery of a friend, or the false 
imputation to themselves of a crime, as from the 
sad truth that multitudes of their countrymen, 
and the great mass of mankind, are destitute of 
piety. 

The deep and genuine uneasiness that accrues 
from this source is enhanced, or at least is ren- 
dered more oppressive, by considerations that 
arise from an exact and impartial estimate of 
the ostensible comparative merits of the reli- 
gious and the irreligious classes: and while, in 
surveying the latter, a feeling of scrupulous 
candour, and an anxiety to adhere to philosophic 
justice, disposes them to reckon, at its fullest 
value, whatever seems good and praiseworthy, 
and to listen to every extenuation of what is 



80 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



evil ; in reviewing the former class, a sensitive 
regard to the honour of Christianity, a high 
conception of the standard of piety and virtue, 
and a keen jealousy of imposition, lead them 
into an excessive or faulty caution in the scrutiny 
of religious profession ; and generate an over- 
wrought fear lest they should attribute a particle 
of excellence too much to the side for which the 
praise of true wisdom and goodness is exclusively 
challenged. 

Under the influence of feelings like these, 
Christians are tempted to conceal from them- 
selves, if it were possible, or at least to maintain 
silence on that inference, which their own hope 
in Christ obliges them to draw concerning the 
peril of those who refuse the only salvation man 
can know. It is not arrogance, but timidity, of 
which the Christian body should now be ar- 
raigned by the world. But as the world is in 
error on the capital principle — so always in the 
special points of its quarrel with the church ; 
it blames that which is praiseworthy, and if, at 
any time it applauds, makes choice of some 
blemish or laxity, as the subject of its com- 
mendation. 

A hearty recognition of that obnoxious truth 
which the Scriptures often expressly affirm, and 
every where suppose, namely — the partition of 
mankind, in the sight of God, as his friends, or 
his enemies, is more or less difficult, according 



THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 



81 



to the circumstances of the times we live in, and 
will be so in the highest degree precisely at those 
moments when, in a peculiar manner, it is im- 
portant ; that is to say, when the diffusive influ- 
ence of -Christianity is so great as to lessen much 
the apparent difference between Christians and 
others ; by which means obscurity is thrown 
upon the first principles of religion. It is plain 
that, in the age when the purifying doctrines 
of the Scriptures had as yet had no operation 
beyond the walls of the church, and when, 
moreover, within those limits, the Gospel was ex- 
erting its fullest influence, Christians, conscious 
as they were both of hopes and of virtues to 
which none but themselves could pretend, were 
liable to no embarrassment (whatever grief) 
in taking up the apostolic profession — "We 
know that we are of God, and that the whole 
world lieth in wickedness." While the church 
and the world are in any such relative position, 
each exhibits its proper internal quality, in the 
most conspicuous manner. Purity belongs to 
the one — shameless corruption to the other. 

The case is reversed when, even if the pri- 
mary and efficacious power of religion be not 
much abated, its secondary and diffusive influ- 
ence has become slowly matured, and is very 
widely extended. At the very season in which 
Christianity is conferring the greatest benefits 
upon mankind at large, by cleansing the at- 
mosphere of the social system, by shedding 



82 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



abroad a general light, and by reproving and 
repressing flagrant evils, its genuine adherents 
are the most strongly tempted to suppose that 
the difference between themselves and others 
is not vital, or not of infinite consequence. So 
fatal a surrender of the peculiarity of the Gospel 
was little likely to take place while all the skies 
were darkened by the smoke of idolatrous wor- 
ship, and the church was beleagured by open war. 

But in times like our own, nothing less than a 
very distinct and forcible conception of things 
spiritual will avail to keep alive on the mind a 
truth equally certain and momentous in one 
age as in another — That whoever is not, in a 
definite sense, a Christian, is " yet in his sins," 
and in peril of the future judgment. The last 
surviving Apostle, when, in the age of Trajan, 
he looked abroad upon the Roman world, might 
(inspiration apart) boldly decide as he did in the 
controversy between the friends and foes of his 
Master ; but to do so now, (unless we assume 
the rule of the sectarist, who judges men by a 
name) demands, not only all the firmness and 
courage of true charity ; but an intimate know- 
ledge of the reason of such a decision. 

And if the inducement silently to compromise 
what is most peculiar, and most obnoxious, in 
their profession, is, to all Christians, at the pre- 
sent moment, strong ; it is so in an especial 
manner to religious writers ; or we should 
say, to those religious writers who, renouncing 



THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 83 

the favour and patronage of any single body of 
Christians (a bold measure) are tempted, as a 
resource, to court the good-will of the world. 
Besides ; writers of this order, in taking position 
aloof from the petty eminences on which others 
stand, and in adhering to the maxims of abso- 
lute independence, and impartiality, and in shew- 
ing their abhorrence of all sinister practices in 
matters of religion, bring themselves into corre- 
spondence with men whose philosophic candour, 
and largeness of mind, might afford the ground 
of a firm coalition, if it were not that principles 
are professed, on the one side, which the other 
looks upon as matter of offence, or of scorn. 
Now in this peculiar exigency, the advocate of 
the great truths of the Gospel is fain to seek 
for any means of conciliation, that may seem 
lawful and available. How gladly would he 
come to agreement with those whose intellectual 
simplicity might lead him to choose them as his 
friends, or to look to them for the only praise 
he covets ! With this view more expedients 
than one may be resorted to. 

— The first, perhaps, is to employ his pen on 
subjects indirectly connected with religion, or 
of secondary importance — cautiously abstaining 
from explicit allusions to those great matters 
which neither the world will receive, nor the 
church favourably listen to unless pronounced 
in customary phrases. Or if he attempts the 
higher themes of Christianity, he may endeavour 

g2 



84 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



so to approach them through the circuitous and 
subterraneous passage of abstruse reasoning, that, 
while his meaning quite escapes the notice of 
simple folk, even the wise and knowing shall be 
taken by surprise, and made suddenly to emerge, 
to their amazement, in the open court of the 
Temple — or at the foot of Mount Calvary ! Or 
such a writer may fondly think that he shall 
succeed in so shedding around the principal 
matters of faith the splendour of secular elo- 
quence, as shall charm all eyes, and enable him 
to beguile and detain those whom he could not 
simply convince. 

Much that is plausible might be said in behalf 
of these, or similar methods of conciliation. But 
even if they had not, in experiment, proved 
of small or doubtful utility, a special objection 
would rest against them, drawn from the pecu- 
liar character of the times. The workings of 
the social system have become too deep and 
potent, to leave room for operations of a slender, 
ambiguous, or insinuating kind. We are come 
to no easy and gentle mood of the world's his- 
tory : this is not the hour of leisure and soft 
persuasion : whoever dares not speak boldly, 
had better not speak at all. Nothing can now 
avail the cause of truth, but the courage which 
truth ought to inspire. 

The neutral ground where men of adverse 
parties might amuse each other with indistinct 
and interminable parleys, which having no 



THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 



85 



serious intention, could have no determinate 
result, has been of late almost entirely deserted. 
If any remain there, they are the frivolous and 
the infirm. But men of vigour (of all parties) 
have gone off, and taken another position ; they 
have severally moved forward, and at quick pace, 
on the course toward which they had long been 
looking. The adherents of the Gospel must 
act with a correspondent energy and prompti- 
tude. If at any time, during the course of ages, 
there has been need, on the part of Christians, 
of that boldness which walks abreast with truth 
and wisdom, this is such a time. It is now that 
whatever is capital and essential in Christianity 
should be clearly and strenuously affirmed. And 
now it is (how unutterably desirable !) that 
whatever overloads, encumbers, or defaces, our 
faith, should be thrown aside. In the day we 
are passing through, loyalty to Christ in the 
main, is not enough for the champions of the 
Gospel, who have need to be free from the stuff 
of this world, whether interests or prejudices. 

Those must have allowed themselves to think 
confusedly or have scarcely thought at all, who 
have not learned what is the moral condition 
and tendency of a vast mass of our country- 
men, perhaps the majority, of every rank, 
at the present moment. And if indeed any 
are thus ignorant of what it behoves all to 
understand, the next evolution of the social 



86 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



body — the natural and (unless prevented) in- 
evitable expansion of existing causes will amaze 
them, as if it were the most unheard-of prodigy. 
It is thus, usually, that those sudden changes 
which the historian (benefited as he is by his 
knowledge of after-facts) sagely speaks of as the 
simple consequences of precursive events, astound 
the men of the age in which they happen. 

A certain order of intelligence (not founded 
on principles, and open to impulse on any side) 
is, as every one knows, spreading rapidly through 
all orders. And while none but the lowest or 
most degraded class fails to take a share in this 
illumination, the classes next in elevation to 
the lowest, participate therein in a degree to 
which no just proportion is borne by any im- 
provement that has had place in the highest 
class. Those who, within a brief period, have 
stepped forward in advance of their late posi- 
tion, cannot but see that the interval between 
them and their superiors has been lessened, 
almost to the whole extent of their own pro- 
gress. The upper rank has not become more 
wise, in the proportion that the inferior has 
become more knowing. We need be no great 
proficients in human nature to divine the sen- 
timents, unconfessed and latent perhaps, which 
such a perception will engender ; and yet it is 
not precisely with these sentiments, or with the 
consequences they are likely to involve, that 
we are here chiefly concerned. 



THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 



87 



The statement of the general fact of the intel- 
lectual advancement of the people is now trite ; 
nor can it well be called in question. But what 
is the bearing of this state of things upon Chris- 
tianity ? Verily we believe it to be favourable, 
if those causes are to be taken into account 
which lie beyond the range of secular calcula- 
tion ; but otherwise if secular and visible causes 
only are looked to ; and it is with these alone 
that human agency, and human foresight are 
connected. The sad truth is too conspicuous, 
that although the diffusion of knowledge has 
not alienated from Christianity those who were 
already effectively acquainted with it (far other- 
wise) and although multitudes, to whom the re- 
cent light has scarcely reached, remain where 
they were in matters of religion ; that is to say, 
as ignorant of it as Caffres ; there is a great body 
of the people, of every class, whom it has served 
to detach or disaffect, or to prepare for any sort 
of impiety. And yet men do not very readily 
shake off even the prejudices they hold in least 
esteem ; but retain them as habits, and look to 
them wistfully, after the substantial surrender 
has been made. And so it is that Christianity 
— its formalities at least, stands now on the 
threshold of thousands and tens of thousands 
of our English homes — melancholy sight, like 
an offended or slighted inmate, ready to 
depart for ever ; and yet not quite resolved 
to go ! 



88 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Untaught, unguided, and in suspense on the 
most momentous subjects, myriads of the English 
people, who have learned to think, but who 
receive no instruction, or none that is sound, 
listlessly contemplate the speckled Christianity 
of our times — uncertain what part to choose ; 
and therefore actually choosing the part of fatal 
indifference. Whither should they resort ? Not 
(or it is only the debauched who will do so) 
not to the teachers of atheism ; — impudent and 
frantic men, who themselves furnish a refutation 
of their folly, by their enormities ! The English 
character must fall many degrees below its pre- 
sent level, before it can happen that large masses 
of the community, or any thing but its scum 
and dregs, shall be seen to circulate around these 
vortices of impurity and blasphemy. 

What then are the alternatives ? — Shall this 
detached mass, rife as it is with an opinion of 
its own intelligence, quietly yield itself to be 
moored back to the haven of established forms, 
whence the tide of events has already borne it 
far ? Shall those whose prime lesson, in all that 
has been taught them of late, is that whatever is 
ancient must be faulty, accept anew, as good 
and right, a system which the lapse of centuries 
has not benefited by hardly an amendment ? It 
were well if it could be so. Would to God that 
the erring thousands of the people might, even 
now, and almost under any condition, fall back 



THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 89 

upon the great truths which the Reformation 
gave us, and which the National Church pre- 
serves ! But can we anticipate such a move- 
ment ? 

Nothing, we grant, absolutely forbids it to be 
supposed, that the classes of which we have 
spoken may continue to yield an external and 
occasional compliance with certain national reli- 
gious usages which, when so complied with, are 
of as much value as beads and holy water, or as 
the praying windmills of the Tartars. This sort 
of Church-of-Englandism may endure a while 
longer : — who shall say how long ? But are we 
contented that it should ? Do we not know 
that matters of ritual which may have some 
real value and wholesome influence (though not 
of the highest kind) while a people are in a simple 
or primitive state, that is to say, while they are 
ruled by sentiment, by venerable prejudice, and 
by association, cease to possess any utility after 
sentiment has been dispelled by the spirit of 
incredulity and mockery ? We have learned 
nothing of what has been taking place of late, 
if we imagine that, either the 'squire, or the 
citizen, or the artisan, who now comes up to 
the altar, or attends his offspring to the font, 
is a being of the same order as was his father 
or his grandfather. Are we then satisfied, and 
do we think that all is well and safe, merely 
because the 'squire, and the citizen, and the 
artisan, still bring their bodily presence to 



90 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



church, even though we know, or might know, 
that instead of the heartiness and the reverence 
of the past generation, the bosoms of these men 
too often harbour contempt, repugnance, or even 
a fixed infidelity ? 

Amazing inobservance ! — if we can suppose 
that, to the people, such as multitudes of them 
have actually become, it can avail any thing in 
the way of moral or religious influence, to 
frequent church five times in the year, to be 
christened, confirmed, married, in due form, to 
receive the sacrament at the last exigency, and 
to be buried as believers. The nation has gone 
beyond the power of these forms. The Parish 
Church stands where it did; but the mind of the 
country has escaped from between the sacred 
walls. Not universally indeed ; far otherwise : — 
we are speaking, not of the passive and sluggish 
portion of the community; but of the active, 
and sensitive, and intelligent — or the half intel- 
ligent. And ought the welfare of such to be a 
matter of no solicitude ? 

Yet even if the slenderest sort of conformity 
were all that we cared for, the course we pursue 
is little adapted to secure it. What are the 
simple facts ? — In the hearing of the people the 
original defects of the national forms, and the 
abuses that have grown upon the establishment 
during the lapse of time, have been talked of 
with the utmost freedom. The people have 
listened, while men, the best informed, and the 



THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD- 



91 



most moderate (not the enemies of the Church 
but its friends) have confessed the necessity of 
revision, and have implored attention to the great 
question from those who should first take it in 
hand. But this discussion, and these entreaties 
come to nothing! Nothing may be hoped for. 
Pertinacity is to have its triumph — perilous 
triumph ! It is a point of honour to spurn 
amendment. To change an iota would be to 
acknowledge that the Fathers of the English 
Church were not inspired—were somewhat in- 
ferior to the Apostles. That which indeed is 
venerable and good (and it is much) must be put 
in peril for the sake of enforcing from the people 
an irrational homage to what all men hold in 
contempt, or inwardly abhor ! 

Such are the infatuations that control human 
affairs ! Ruin thus wilfully produced, comes on 
in the common order of events. The wisdom 
that might conserve, rescue, restore, re-edify, 
scarcely belongs to mankind ; and for want of 
it, when the hour of peril arrives, nations are 
thrown upon revolution and anarchy. And yet 
every thing seems to invite and to facilitate 
that line of proceeding which the times call 
for. In the English character there is not only 
much sobriety and moderation, but a singular 
readiness to greet with applauses any proof of 
good intention and honesty in persons of high 
station. True — faction is always awake among 
us ; but there is also, in the mass of the people, 



92 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



a prompt and cordial approbation of whatever 
is manifestly well meant by governing powers. 
The nation — that is, the thousand to the one, 
would bear aloft upon its shields whoever should 
now act for it the part of courage, and pru- 
dence, and conciliation, in matters of religion. 
The nation would put the violent and the 
captious to shame ; yes, and would return 
with joy to the walls of a wisely re-established 
Church. 

Is then the hope of any such restoration fond 
and vain ? While the people are daily falling off 
from Christianity, because their highest welfare 
is not thought of, because their actual state is 
not considered, because the salvation of millions 
of souls is a trivial matter, if it implies the 
giving up of this or that childish prejudice ; 
while these things are happening, our creeds 
and forms shall be preserved — to a tittle : and 
to secure so worthy an end, to secure it in 
the actual state of the country, all the corrupt 
motives of acquiescence must be doubly stimu- 
lated : the people, in the many modes which 
state policy is skilled in, must be bribed to 
quietness and silence. And especially, they 
must be taught that, in matters of Religion, if 
man be but pleased, God is always easy. All 
this must be done; and it shall prosper — if the 
Almighty has consigned us to desolation ! Our 
sons, and theirs again, are to be driven down 
the steeps of unbelief; because, forsooth, the 



THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 



93 



jealousies of the imbecile, and the emoluments 
of the corrupt, must not be touched ? * 

It is, however, loudly asked in another quar- 
ter — Whether the intelligent thousands of the 
English people might not do better, or have not 
an alternative, beside that of bowing to infidelity, 
or of cringing to an establishment which will not 
listen to reproofs ? Difficult question ! or diffi- 
cult unless we are willing, and able, fairly to 
place ourselves in the position of the persons 
of whom we are speaking — the intelligent, yet 
imperfectly informed, and irreligious, of all 
ranks. But if from that position we look 
abroad upon the many-coloured array of our 
religious parties, we shall cease to wonder that 
Christianity in England has had as little reason 
to boast of extensive triumphs under its sim- 
plest, as in its most elaborate forms. The grand 
mischief when we are endeavouring to assail 
the prejudices of others is this — that we do 
not, or will not, consider the light in which 
ourselves, and our attempts, appear to them. 

* Since this paragraph was written the changeful aspect of 
affairs has again and again seemed to promise a happier issue. 
Yet still the religious welfare of the country hangs in doubt : 
it is still quite uncertain whether our institutions are to be 
conserved by a wise Reform, or thrown unamended upon the 
frightful chances of every year's vicissitudes. Let the hope 
be indulged that the long delay of reform is an auspicious 
prognostic of its soundness and permanence. 



94 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



It is too much to expect that our uninformed 
neighbours, or our countrymen at large, should 
make themselves conversant with that pro- 
digious mass of theological and historical lore 
which must be known before any one can fully 
and fairly appreciate the justificatory argument 
of each of our sects. To exculpate each, and 
to respect each, a man must be familiar with 
the circumstances of the times wherein it origi- 
nated ; he must be master of the merits of 
many entangled controversies, and must fairly 
estimate the mutual influence of sect upon sect. 
Not a whit less labour and diligence is ne- 
cessary for correctly measuring the respective 
claims of religious parties, than would make 
a man erudite in the most multifarious of the 
sciences. Nothing of this sort can reasonably 
be looked for. 

Meanwhile the intelligent, and the half in- 
telligent — the few who are well informed on all 
subjects, but religion, and the myriads who 
now know something of many sciences, but 
nothing of this, can hardly be blamed if they 
take up a notion which, though substantially 
false, is apparently rational. Such persons — 
lamentable case ! are impelled to suppose, either 
that Christianity is so indeterminate a system 
that its most careful and serious adherents are 
unable to fix its meaning, and therefore that 
it is well to keep clear altogether of the per- 
plexities it involves ; or, that, by some fatality, 



THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 



95 



it breeds a spirit of trivial scrupulosity, produc- 
tive of interminable discords. It will, for the 
most part, be utterly vain to assure such mis- 
judging spectators that their idea of the religious 
parties is incorrect and distorted. The ostensible 
fact of our endless divisions will outweigh all 
explanations. 

Thus it is that the souls of men are sported 
with on all sides ! How little do we consider 
the infinite mischiefs we occasion when we give 
indulgence to Small Motives in matters of 
religion ! Would to God that, at length, 
good men might learn to calculate all the con- 
sequences — remote and distant perhaps, but 
immensely important, of that theological and 
ecclesiastical inflexibility, by which they think 
to prove their loyalty to Christ ! Alas, those 
for whom Christ died are fixed in unbelief 
by the spectacle of this same immovable 
purity ! * 

* Our sects (the principal of them) are the product of the 
same era that gave us our Establishment ; and the one form 
of Christianity is just the antithesis of the other. If the ad- 
vancement of society in the course of three centuries renders 
a revision of the one indispensable, so does it of the other. 
Rocked by the winds of discord in the same cradle, though 
always at variance, Dissent and Conformity are alike antique ; 
and while both happily comprise the great and unchanging 
verities of the Gospel, both are what times and men have made 
them. The dissident loudly speaks of this obsolete character 
of the Church. But impartial men will be apt to think that, 
if we ought now to see something better, or more mature, 



96 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Let it be granted, and it is unquestionably 
true, that the entrance of the Gospel into the 
human heart is opposed by that hostility which 
belongs to the defection of the race ; and that 
this hostility is independent and irrespective of 
any exterior disadvantage under which Chris- 
tianity may labour. Yes, but obstacles of this 
intrinsic sort, which have always to be encoun- 
tered, great as they may be, are not found to 
prevent the triumphs of religion, where its spread 
is not prevented by other causes. The Lord 
vanquishes his own foes, and he does so with 
the ease of omnipotence. To break and subdue 
the human heart, with all its obduracy, and to 
cleanse it, notwithstanding all its impurity, is 
his proper work ; and he glories to perform it. 
But when the Gospel comes to a stand, or sleeps 
within its limits, from age to age ; or only slowly 
spreads along with the increase of population, 
the cause of the stagnation is to be found, either 
in the sluggishnesss, the feuds, or the follies of 
the Church ; — not in the universal enmity of 
the heart to God. The Lord does not inter- 
pose to overcome that hostility or contempt 
which the misconduct of his people calls forth. 
It is secondary or incidental, far more than 
primary prejudices, that hold mankind at a 
distance from the truth. We refuse to see and 



than was thought of, or than could be effected, by Cranmer, 
Jewel, Hooker ; a like revision should take place of the notions 
and institutions of Brown, Prynne, and Owen. 



THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 



97 



believe this, and therefore marvel at the impiety 
and obduracy of mankind, when nothing is more 
conspicuous than its proximate cause. 

A review of the entire course of Church 
history must convince any one, that very high 
degrees of personal piety and virtue — piety and 
virtue even of the most exalted order, often con- 
sist with a participation in egregious errors of 
the sort that attach rather to a community at 
large, than to individuals. This truth has been 
lost sight of in every age, and in our own times. 
For example ; while we know r by personal con- 
sciousness, and by fellowship with others, that 
Christianity exists among us in much vigour and 
purity, and is bringing forth its fruits on all sides, 
we indignantly repel the supposition that the 
entire Christian body may be capitally in fault. 
And yet, were not the Jansenists, and the men 
of Port Royal Christians ? Were not Pascal 
and Fenelon men of God ? Well were it, if 
we could now match them in elevation, de- 
votedness, spirituality. Nevertheless, did they 
not stand forth as the zealous (not merely the 
passive) adherents of their meretricious and 
idolatrous Church ? and in every age that same 
Church — collectively abominable in the sight 
of Heaven, has embraced on her false bosom, 
worthies in whom the apostolic age might have 
gloried. 

Is it not then a culpable delusion which impels 
certain persons to resent suppositions of this 

H 



98 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



sort, merely because piety, fervent, pure, and 
zealous, is seen to be flourishing among us ? 
How much of that piety does the world know 
any thing of ? The world enters not our 
closets, knows nothing of our hearts, and knows 
but little, even of the exterior behaviour of 
the obscure thousands who most adorn their 
profession. But it sees, and knows, and rumi- 
nates upon, our visible disagreements ; it mea- 
sures our alienations ; listens to the din when 
angry spirits wake the winds of strife ; and in 
a word, discerns whatever is discreditable ; is 
uninformed of, or incompetent to appreciate, 
whatever is true and good. 

Who can say what might now have been the 
religious condition of England if our several dis- 
sident communities had, a century ago, calmly 
and wisely returned to the path which their free- 
dom from political control left open to them, 
which the plain rule of the New Testament 
points out ; and which common sense so dis- 
tinctly approves? Almost confidently it may be 
affirmed, that an unbroken harmony among its 
opponents, must have compelled, or rather 
would have induced, the Established Church 
to revise its forms and constitutions ; and es- 
pecially to rescind its ill-omened demand of an 
unconditional and universal approval of the 
same, as the term of officiation. And then, on 
the other side, how must such a proof of the 
vigour and glory of the Gospel have affected 



THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 99 

the minds of the mass of the people ! Our faith 
in Christianity altogether is put in jeopardy, 
if we hesitate to believe that a Harmonious 
Church, freed from secular hostility or re- 
straint, would fail to spread itself rapidly, and 
to prevail. 

" The world knoweth us not : " — sad truth, 
for it means nothing less than this, that the 
bulk of mankind still remains far from God 
and hope! — Sad, even when the. blame of this 
ignorance rests altogether upon its victims ; 
but how ineffably afflictive, when the fault is 
shared, in equal portions, between the world 
and the Church ! 



h 2 



VII. 

STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 

" THY TESTIMONIES ARE MY MEDITATION." 



An obvious distinction leads us to distribute 
the study of Holy Scripture under three heads ; 
namely — the devout and practical; — the critical, 
or verbal ; and the scientific, or theological. If 
the first of these be wanting, there is no piety at 
all, and no virtue in the church : if the second, 
no certitude ; no good sense ; no barrier against 
extravagance, heresy, or infidelity: if the third 
be at a low ebb, there is no intelligence ; no 
advancement, and therefore, by necessity, a re- 
trogression and decay in that kind of knowledge 
which should furnish guidance and motive, both 
to devout and critical studies ; and which espe- 
cially should gather in the fruits of the latter. 

Of the first of these branches of biblical study 
it may be said, that if it does not at present 
signally flourish, neither is it remarkably defi- 
cient. The second is the specific praise of our 
times, and waits only for the aid it should receive 
from the third, to reach perhaps its perfection. 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



101 



Of the last, nothing can be affirmed that is very 
encouraging; unless it be the negative advantage 
(and this is a real one) that the room it should 
occupy stands vacant. 

It is a fact always to be observed, that the 
mental connexion between words or customary 
phrases, and the ideas or notions they represent, 
tends to dissolution ; and it must be added that 
the rate of this dissolution is accelerated, or 
retarded, in proportion to the frequency with 
which such words and phrases pass over the 
lips of mankind. This gravitation, which brings 
the heavier substance — knowledge, down, as a 
residuum, and leaves the lighter — language, to 
float as a frothy crust on the surface, is to be 
counteracted only by continual agitation of the 
mass. Illustrations of this tendency are abun- 
dant in every department of philosophy. Let 
it, for instance, be supposed, that at a certain 
period, metaphysical studies are eagerly pursued, 
that the energies of many vigorous minds are 
intently concentrated upon them, that multi- 
tudes of the educated class make themselves 
familiar with the rival systems that are promul- 
gated ; and that, as a consequence (whether or 
not truth be ascertained) the entire vocabulary 
of abstract science passes under deliberate 
review, receives new modifications, and is issued 
afresh, like a coinage, in full weight, duly 
assayed, and with a sharp image and resplendent 
surface. 



102 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Now if it should happen that this study, so 
revived and invigorated as to tighten anew the 
bonds that connect words with ideas, does, after 
being consigned to books, disappear in the very 
next age ; or is cherished and transmitted only 
by a small number of the learned class — in that 
case the men of an after-age may find it, as it 
was left, and where it was left ; and may bring 
abroad the long latent science in all its beauty 
and precision. 

But let us imagine, on the contrary, that this 
same metaphysical philosophy had gone down 
to the next age, and then to the next, in all its 
popularity ; and had continued, as at first, to 
constitute the ordinary topic of converse among 
well-informed persons ; and yet had not, in all 
that time, drawn to itself any renewed energy 
from powerful minds ; but that each generation, 
transmitting what it had received, imparted to 
it no reanimation. The inevitable consequence 
would be that the principles, axioms, deduc- 
tions, distinctions, and modes of proof which 
we should find on all men's tongues, would be 
on their tongues only. And not only would 
it appear that distinct ideas and notions had, 
to a great extent, subsided from the popular 
mind ; but that such as were retained, bore 
extremely little resemblance to those that be- 
longed to the original science. For though 
men had ceased to work upon the philosophy, 
Nature and Time have been busy with it, and 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



103 



have imposed upon it many strange modifica- 
tions. 

The history of Science has many times veri- 
fied the operation of these laws ; and indeed 
the revolution only of a few years is often 
enough to exhibit their influence. Let but some 
hotly agitated question of policy, or political 
economy, cease to be vigorously treated, and 
yet continue to be matter of common conver- 
sation ; and we shall find, in ten years, or 
seven — perhaps in three, that words, phrases, 
and wonted forms of expression, on such sub- 
jects, have slipped their meaning, and being 
disburdened of the weight which once they car- 
ried, have taken the wing, and float, vague and 
idle, in upper air. 

Scriptural knowledge is open to the very same 
influence, though happily not to the same ex- 
tent; or rather, not without powerful correctives. 
For although religious principles undergo a far 
more extended dissemination among the vulgar 
than those of any secular science, they also 
arise fresh from the spring-head more readily 
and copiously, than any other truths. Nor 
should we omit to include, or fail to take great 
account of, that perpetual and invisible agency 
from above, which maintains always (more or 
less complete) the connexion between piety and 
truth; so that, even when sacred knowledge is 
at the lowest ebb, as a science, or is almost 
wholly neglected by men of intelligence, it lives 



104 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



essentially, wherever faith, humility, and prayer, 
are found. 

That portion of Heavenly Wisdom which, 
under such circumstances, survives and is che- 
rished, will be just the first articles of belief — 
the Saving Rudiments * of spiritual life. Of 
these the Head of the Church himself takes 
care, lest faith should utterly disappear from 
the earth. But beside the inestimable jewel of 
elementary knowledge, the price of which can 
never be told, does there not rest within the 
folds of the Inspired Book an inexhaustible store, 
which the industry of man, piously directed, 
ought to elicit, but which, if men neglect it, the 
Lord will not force upon their notice ? It is 
this hidden treasure which should animate the 
ambition of vigorous and devout minds. From 
such, at second-hand, the body of the faithful 
are to receive it, if at all : and if not so ob- 
tained for them, and dealt out by their teachers, 
nothing will be more meagre, unfixed, almost 
infantile, than the faith of Christians. 

A consideration of many circumstances (some 
secular, some ecclesiastical) and of circumstances 
independent one of another, would be involved in 
the general question relative to the present state 
of the scientific, or theological knowledge of the 
Scriptures. Not at all pretending to treat so 
great a matter, we shall mention merely such 
incidental points as first present themselves. 

* Heb. v. 12. 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



105 



At a time when the Christian community is 
not in any sense secluded — is not defended in 
purity, or compacted by the overt hostility of 
the world, it is natural that the spirit of the 
Church should be nearly one and the same with 
the common spirit of the age. And if we ask, 
Why do not the higher and more recondite 
themes of sacred knowledge receive the pro- 
found attention of distinguished men, and from 
them descend to the mass of Christians ? it is 
both just and natural to reply — Because nothing 
that is profound, recondite, or great and arduous, 
in any line, commands much respect, or absorbs 
the energies of eminent minds. 

It has now become trite to announce the fact 
that ours is the age of diffusion, of abatement, of 
mediocrity ; and while the philanthropist, as he 
justly may, to some extent, triumphs in the 
course which the human mind is taking, few 
stop to calculate the remote consequences of 
that course, or ask what may be its less obvious 
results. 

If a complete analogy subsisted between the 
worlds of matter and mind, there would be a 
palpable reason always for exulting in the 
levelling of eminences, an operation which 
(mathematicians tell us) elevates the general 
surface whereon lately they stood : but the 
inference from the one system to the other is 
fallacious, or at least imperfect. The fact is 
certain, that this age of warfare upon whatever 



106 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



is exclusive, or select, this day of " scattering," 
not of "gathering," is singularly wanting, as 
might have been anticipated, in those higher 
qualities and manifestations of the human mind 
which refuse to be doled out and shared among 
the many. The Individual Power which his- 
tory fondly looks to, disappears. The history of 
our times, when it shall come to be compiled, 
will be that of masses, not of persons ; of com- 
munities, not of leaders. 

Now after all has been granted that can fairly 
be said in recommendation of this order of 
things, it remains to ask, whether an unbounded 
expansion of the energies of the intellectual 
world does not bring with it a probable decay 
and decline of each power ? There are those 
who will affirm the contrary; and will tell us 
that, in matters of mind, diffusion is accumu- 
lation ; and participation enhancement. Our 
sons will be able to pronounce upon this pro- 
blem more certainly than ourselves : meanwhile 
it must be admitted that those productions or 
discoveries which have most ennobled humanity, 
or enlarged our sphere of thought, or of action, 
have not been germinated on the surface, nor 
concocted abroad ; have not risen from the fer- 
mentation of rude masses ; but have come from 
the secrecy of individual bosoms, and have not 
blessed the world until after they reached some 
maturity in their womb and cradle. 

Nature, it is probable, bestows upon mankind, 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



107 



from age to age, a nearly equal measure of 
intellectual power. But the splendid instances 
of original endowment make their appearance, 
or not — rise to the surface or remain buried 
in the soil, according to the temperament of the 
times. And if prevailing barbarism, and civil 
anarchy, and a taste of war, repress or destroy 
the germs of mind, it is also true that, in eras 
of boasted advancement, and universal or general 
refinement, they may fail to be evolved, from 
the want of peculiarity, and of privilege, and of 
the concentration of exciting causes. Genius, 
as it has often been said (and we may include 
every species of high mental power) flourishes 
most midway between the two extreme points 
of social advancement ; or just in that stage of 
its progress where the few possess the greatest 
possible advantage over the many, consistently 
with that degree of intellectual life in the many, 
which opens a field, and affords motive to the 
ambition of the few. Europe, as it seems, 
has already gone through that bright middle 
season — has given birth to her complement of 
illustrious men — has done with the admiration 
of Chiefs ; and will henceforth move forward, 
in mass, by the force, and under the guidance of 
the Common Mind. 

The true character of the age is not incor- 
rectly indicated (indeed is very fairly repre- 
sented) by the style of our literature ; and the 



108 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



style of our literature, and the influences to 
which it is subjected, are so intimately connected 
with the state of theological studies, that they 
demand special consideration. 

The extension of knowledge, and the incal- 
culable multiplication of readers, has effected, 
indirectly, a revolution in literature as complete 
as that produced by the invention of printing, 
though less conspicuous. The simple circum- 
stance that books have become one of the most 
considerable articles of commerce, has reversed 
the direction of the influence of which the press 
is the medium. Our literature is commanded, 
or controlled, by the people, and only in a 
secondary sense commands them. The reader 
has grown into an importance that makes him 
lord of the writer. Authors furnish (how 
should they do otherwise) that which readers 
ask for, or will receive. Until of late, and in 
all informed communities, men of high endow- 
ments have exercised, in their several depart- 
ments, a sort of domination perhaps more 
exempt than any other from the reaction of 
the governed upon the governing power. Not 
absolutely, but yet in a great degree, mind has 
wrought alone, has produced its fruits spon- 
taneously, and has confided those fruits, without 
anxiety, to the admiration and conservation of 
mankind. For the better or the worse, writers 
have, in all ages but our own, been the leaders 
of the intelligence of the world. 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



109 



We speak of this new order of things at 
large, and in its essential character, without 
denying the exceptions and mitigations to which 
it may be open. But if a plain fact is to 
he spoken of in plain terms it is this, that 
books have at last thoroughly come under the 
laws that regulate the quantity, quality, fashion, 
form, and colour, of silks, potteries, furniture, 
jewels, and other articles of artificial life. Now 
who does not know that the purchaser of any 
such commodity must (whatever special circum- 
stances may seem to disguise the fact) stand in 
the relation of master to the manufacturer, the 
artist, the workman ? The exceptions to the 
rule are — Vhen the production is of so rare or 
peculiar a kind that a monopoly is enjoyed by 
the few who can appear as venders ; — or when 
the demand is so limited that the traffic escapes 
the notice of the spirit of trade, and by this 
means enjoys a sort of snug liberty, under shelter 
of its mere insignificance. Both these circum- 
stances have, in former times, protected litera- 
ture from the interference of commercial motives. 
Neither of them is now in operation. 

Whatever is important enough to attract to 
itself a large and fair proportion of the capital 
of a country must, spite of the sensitiveness or 
high sentiments of any of the parties concerned, 
yield obedience to the paramount principles of 
commerce. It is an illusion to suppose that 
any very extensive or permanent exemptions 



110 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



from the laws of trade, can have place in mat- 
ters of trade. Mind struggles much against 
these mighty powers, and writhes under their 
tyranny ; but its resistance is successful only in 
single instances, or for an hour. Our modern 
literature has one reason, and of this reason 
the buyer is the sovereign, the vender the inter- 
preter, and the writer the slave. 

When, therefore, a boast is made (and it is a 
well-founded boast) of the incalculable increase 
of general intelligence, and of the spread of 
taste and knowledge, two conditions of this im- 
proved state of things should be kept in mind ; — 
namely, the present or immediate effect of it 
upon the productive class ; and its probable, we 
might say certain effect, upon the next age. As 
it would be an absurd petulance to repine at 
that course of things which none can turn, and 
which confers benefits upon myriads ; so would 
it be absurd to suppose that a literature thus 
overruled by the myriad, should continue to be 
the same in quality as it was in classic eras, 
when it led the taste of the smallest and most 
select portion of the community. Can we in- 
deed believe that a revolution effected under 
influences such as we have named, will be alto- 
gether favourable in its results ? 

The change that has occurred affects not 
only the style of writing, and the choice of sub- 
jects ; but the ultimate motives and purposes of 
authors, controls their principles, or destroys 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



Ill 



them ; and even more, it determines, in a great 
degree, what individuals shall exercise the func- 
tion of authorship, and what be restrained from 
doing so. Those who, under the ancient order 
of things, would have written from spontaneous 
impulses, and at the call of direct motives, and 
who would have occupied the arena almost 
alone, stand now in a position essentially un- 
like that of their more fortunate predecessors. 
For not only have they to sustain a dubious 
comparison with competitors, more likely than 
themselves to win immediate applause ; but the 
utmost degree of success which they are likely 
to obtain, consisting in the admiration of a small 
class in their own and other countries, now 
appears so mean a thing by the side of vulgar 
celebrity, that it takes to itself the shame of 
positive failure. The peril of this sort of dis- 
grace outweighs (it is probable) in some highly 
gifted minds, the ambition of distinction, and 
retains them in obscurity. 

While we are rejoicing in the numerous band 
of accomplished men who so ably occupy the 
press, we should pause and ask, whether some 
of its legitimate masters are not holding back, 
and refusing to exercise their function. It may 
moreover fairly be questioned whether the natu- 
ral order of the intellectual polity is not subverted, 
when the contact of writers, in the highest de- 
partments, with the imperfectly-educated classes, 
is immediate. Heretofore the rule has been, 



112 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



that the slowly matured products of great and 
tranquil spirits, after passing through minds of 
the next rate, should be disseminated over the 
wider surface of society by their means. Now 
it is certain that what is written and intended 
for the class of instructors, must be very unlike 
that which is prepared directly for the instructed. 
It is indeed always well that writers, whatever 
class of readers they are addressing, should 
labour to attain perspicuity, and simplicity, and 
vivacity ; but can it be well when they feel 
themselves compelled (as in terror) to avoid 
whatever supposes in the reader high culture 
and intelligence ? 

It would, however, be a culpable inadvertency 
not to mention the reaction, or rather inter- 
action, which at present is going on between 
readers and writers. If writers have become 
too much, the obsequious servants of a slenderly- 
informed multitude, it is also true that while 
they are anxiously mindful of their master's 
wishes, and careful not to offend, and especially 
not to perplex him, they reconcile themselves 
to the degradations they undergo by striving to 
dignify their labours with as much abstract ex- 
cellence as may consist with popularity. By this 
laudable ambition the taste of the public is gra- 
dually improved ; and, as a natural consequence, 
a still better commodity than at first comes to 
be asked for, and is favourably received. This 
amended taste stimulates again the endeavours 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



113 



of writers ; and it is hard to say where the 
continual approximation to what is good, will 
find its limit. 

Nevertheless the highest fruits of mind are of 
a constitution far too delicate to be thus pro- 
duced. Under the present mercantile regimen, 
the diffusion of knowledge may spread much 
wider than yet it has, and at a quicker rate ; 
and a certain amount of intelligence may be- 
come the common property of the people : 
but is there not reason to predict the non- 
appearance of works that might descend to 
distant ages ? And as the experiment is new, 
it remains to be seen whether even general 
intelligence can be long upheld while decay is 
taking place in the higher departments of lite- 
rature ; whether the mind of a people can be 
kept alive at ail, under the tyranny of the 
democratic principle ; whether, in a word, the 
course we are running on, though crowded with 
gaiety and stir, is not leading to the depression 
or extinction of learning, taste, and philosophy. 

Whatever may be the anticipations we form 
on this subject, they would but imperfectly 
hold good in matters of Religion ; for the rise 
and fall of religious feeling and knowledge are 
determined by powers (divine and human) that 
lie quite beyond the sphere of the causes we 
have adverted to. In reference therefore to 
this class of literature, we are safe only while 
looking to actual facts, and must leave futurity 

i 



114 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



untouched. And even as to what comes under 
our immediate observation, large exceptions 
must be reserved in favour of that which does 
not shew itself on the surface of the reli- 
gious world : we well know that all that is 
purest and best loves obscurity. If it were 
not so, or if it were true that the state of 
piety is directly dependent upon that of sacred 
literature, it would be disheartening indeed to 
remember that this class of books, instead of 
being exempt from the law of trade, is, in some 
respects, more subject to that infelicitous despot- 
ism than any other class. But counteractive 
causes are powerful, and always at work; and 
happily it can neither be said that religious 
books are nothing better than the commercial 
influence would make them; nor that religion 
is not better than what our religious books 
would seem to indicate. 

The actual operation of the existing economy 
of the literary world upon religious books is 
to be discerned more in its negative than in its 
positive effects. That is to say, though our 
theological and devotional publications are not 
so much vitiated by the interference of commer- 
cial motives as might have been anticipated, 
these causes act directly (in combination with 
others) to discourage and repress that higher 
order of composition which the Church now 
most stands in need of, and which the venders 
of books, with a sure foreknowledge of their 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



115 



small success, are wont to frown upon. Works 
which would slowly and surely benefit the mass 
of Christians through the intervention, and by 
the means of a few hundred readers, are not 
produced, because, on the existing system, they 
cannot be published ; or if published would be 
lost sight of in the crowd of more specious can- 
didates for public favour. 

The higher class of religious composition is 
moreover sensibly acted upon by another influ- 
ence, of which it is hard to say whether it be, 
on the whole, most sanatory or injurious — in- 
vigorating or enfeebling; namely, the publicity, 
we should say exposure that now attends the 
expression of religious sentiments through the 
press. A book is, of course, at all times, acces- 
sible alike to all purchasers — is open to all eyes. 
But there have been few eras in the Church 
(probably none) in which religious writings were 
actually so much placed under the eye of the 
irreligious as now they are. The mode and 
organs of this exhibition it is not necessary here 
to specify. But the influence of so much expo- 
sure, though not always obvious, is not unreal. 
Whatever in the circle of religious publications 
may, by the aid of ingenious perversion, be 
employed to fortify unbelief, to gratify spleen, 
or to tickle the levity of irreligion, seldom es- 
capes the quick sight of those who, from week 
to week, from month to month, cater for the 
malign frivolity of the public. 

i 2 



116 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Upon whom does this liability to exposure 
press with the heaviest disadvantage ? Not upon 
those to whom (rightly understood) it might be 
serviceable. There are religious writers who, far 
from being daunted by the thought of publicity, 
seem rather enheartened by it to give the rein to 
their taste for enormous whims, or virulent ex- 
cesses; and who claim the praise of pious valour 
in setting contempt at defiance. There are too, 
some, whose happy insensibility, or whose sheer 
forgetfulness of things around them, enables 
them to speak and write before all the world, 
as if the walls of a monastery were between 
them and mankind. 

But it is not so with others; and not so with 
some who best might reanimate the church by 
lofty strains of sacred eloquence. Feebleness 
and over-caution, and a latent thought of the 
profane world, check our course heavenward ; 
nothing is so rare in religious literature as the 
boldness, the freshness, the manly force, the pro- 
fundity, the elevation, which give a charm to our 
older writers. It seems as if we had forgotten 
that, as the hope of the Gospel must, by the 
necessity of the case, be an object of mockery to 
those whose devotion to the present life, and 
rejection of the future, imply contempt of what- 
ever is true and great, it is as well to meet this 
mad derision on higher, as on lower ground. 

So long as the modesty and meekness of the 
Christian temper are preserved, what is so 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



117 



becoming to the public advocate of religion as the 
highest tone of confidence and fervour? If other 
men are entangled in endless surmises, or are 
deluded by futile theories, he knows on what 
ground his faith rests : he knows whom he 
serves ; his calculations are formed on a clear 
foresight of futurity. Upon the present scene of 
things — its eager frivolities, its childish tastes, 
and its turbulence, and its virulence, he looks 
with a feeling hard to designate ; for it is not 
contempt, not petulance, not indifference, not 
misanthropic scorn; but yet gathers something 
from each of these emotions ; and has the force 
of all, without the poison of any. Of whom 
should the well-instructed advocate of the Gos- 
pel be afraid ? He has the highest truths in his 
possession ; and is hastening on (with all around 
him, coadjutors and opponents) to the hour which 
shall well vindicate the part he has chosen, and 
well conclude the course he has run! 

It is the want of a fearless and aggressive 
energy on the part of the champions of truth 
which, at the present moment, emboldens infi- 
delity, staggers the wavering, and leaves the 
ground open to the wantonness and the impu- 
dence of visionaries. How great a revolution 
in favour of Christianity might, under the con- 
duct of the Divine Spirit, be now effected by 
the intrepidity of even a single mind, whose 
courage, firm as that of the apostles, should be 
sustained by piety and wisdom like theirs! 



118 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Partly in obedience to the law of mediocrity 
which rules the age, and partly in uneasiness 
from the publicity that attaches to religious 
literature, those who might be competent to 
treat the loftiest themes, betake themselves to 
lower ground, where, while their talents and 
accomplishments insure them distinction, little 
is hazarded. Matters of fact and erudition, 
things minute, definite, and immediately appli- 
cable, the fields of history, technical criticism, 
and ingenious elucidation, are safe and facile. 
The ephemeral controversies that spring from 
the collision of our religious factions, are also 
free from the peculiar peril which weighs upon 
us. And happily too, the very humblest style 
of devout or practical exposition is exempt from 
the eye and interference of the giant criticism 
we tremble at. These and similar topics employ 
therefore superior minds. 

But who ventures to rise toward the upper 
region of meditation ? Who forgets the world 
— its madness, and its scorn, while he enters 
the gates of immortal hope ? Who is it that, 
as if the contemners of Heaven were not in 
hearing, converses with, and concerning, the 
Supreme Nature ? Who, with a reverent yet 
uncurbed eloquence, fitting the occasion, speaks 
of the mysteries of Redemption ? Or who, re- 
gardless of the powers of calumny that keep 
their state as ministers of vengeance around the 
throne of ancient Prejudice, explores anew the 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



119 



half-hidden, half-revealed wonders that yet couch 
beneath the words of Scripture ? Labours like 
these, and enterprises so great, demand, in times 
such as our own, an intrepidity which the age 
does not produce. 

While the rudiments of truth are well pre- 
served among us, there never has been a time, 
perhaps, wherein less of the intensity of the 
meditative faculty was concentrated upon sacred 
themes, than at present. Our Biblical industry 
is all devoted to the letter ; and it must be con- 
fessed that exegetical erudition abounds in a 
very fair degree. These lower studies (indis- 
pensable indeed) fall in marvellously well with 
the frigid timidity of the age, and with its love 
of palpable utility : they run glibly by the side 
of those practical and applicatory sciences which 
are receiving universal homage. Professors and 
students of theology feel to be quite in harmony 
with the spirit of the times, while they thus con- 
fine their attention to matters of fact, to things 
small and tangible, and which may instantly and 
visibly be carried home to some specific point of 
interpretation. 

Shall we then, because we wish for what is 
more great and substantial than at present we 
see, invite the return of some one of the obsolete 
forms of theology ? Better remain small as we 
are, than be so enlarged. And yet it must be 
admitted that those ponderous schemes of sacred 
philosophy, although they spoiled, in their turns, 



120 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



the simplicity of the Gospel, did call into 
exercise a force of mind and a power of compre- 
hension, and discussion, which have long ceased 
to appear within the precincts of the Church. 
The Platonic, or profound and meditative theo- 
logy, after a long reign, fell before the activity 
and the tactics of the Aristotelian, or logical and 
disputatious. This again, having lived to its 
dotage, received a deadly wound from the hand 
of the Reformers, who erected in its place its 
Image, the dogmatic theology ; and to this all 
men did obeisance — and still in measure do so ; 
for it has neither given place to a successor, nor 
been formally consigned to oblivion. Neverthe- 
less it exists rather in skeleton, to fill an un- 
claimed chair of state, than exercises any positive 
domination. Nothing rises in the room of the 
ancient systems. There is silence in the halls 
of Sacred Science, as if men were waiting, in 
expectation of the descent upon earth of the 
bright and fair form of Celestial Wisdom. 

And yet this meagreness of our theology has 
its palliation, and even its praise. Who would 
exchange the sedulous benevolence of our times 
for the intellectual power of past ages ? It is 
the just commendation of the (spiritual) Church 
of the present day, that it prefers the propaga- 
tion of the Gospel, and the service of humanity, 
to every other pursuit. So long as the sad 
reality is before us, of the ignorance and irre- 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



121 



ligion of the large majority of mankind, nothing, 
it is felt, should be much thought of, nothing 
much employ our energy, but the great and 
urgent work of evangelizing the nations. While 
our brethren of mankind are untaught, unblessed, 
and without hope, our private tastes must be 
foregone, and our personal advantage delayed, 
or even abandoned. Charity demands that, 
leaving untouched the hidden treasures of the 
sacred volume, we should hasten to carry the 
necessary bread of life to those that are famish- 
ing. There is a true magnanimity in this deter- 
mination, and a just praise too, that ought to 
shield from rebuke many deficiencies ; — provided 
always, that such deficiencies are truly attribut- 
able to the perpetual assiduity of our zeal. 

Even if the labours of Christian beneficence 
do not fill all hours, and all days, they scarcely 
allow of the formation of those opposite habits 
which are demanded by arduous studies, and 
without which advancement will scarcely be 
made beyond the rudiments of evangelical know- 
ledge. The temper, as well as the serenity of 
meditation is disturbed. Amid engagements- 
differing not very much in their spirit from those 
of common business, the soul is thrown from its 
centre, and finds it hard to regain its equipoise. 
Meanwhile (and it is to be noted) the public 
and sedulous habits of the religion of the day, 
although they barely admit of the growth of 
celestial wisdom, do not, in the same degree, 



122 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



forbid the acquirement of matter-of-fact erudition. 
This sort of learning may well enough be accu- 
mulated in any frame of mind, or amid any 
distractions ; nor can the utter want of it be well 
excused by any circumstances. There is there- 
fore an intelligible connexion between the in- 
crease of Biblical or textual science, and the 
decay of the higher kinds of sacred knowledge, 
as both stand related to the distracting quality of 
our public engagements. 

The decline of Theology is favoured, more- 
over, by incidental causes, which, as they are 
inseparable from human nature, and not directly 
blameworthy, may be adverted to without of- 
fence. Men of sense, and of fair information, 
well know that there are, within the range of 
religious meditation, subjects which cannot with 
any hope of advantage, or even with propriety, 
be made matter of open converse until after 
much patient and private consideration has been 
bestowed upon them ; they ask for days, or 
months, of devout attention. Too ingenuous 
to stand forward as moderator of serious dis- 
cussions, upon matters of this sort, without the 
prerequisite competency, he who is centre of his 
circle, and who feels himself responsible for its 
movements, deems it a point of discretion to 
hush, or prorogue conversation. In this manner 
religious intercourse, even in the best circles, 
takes its range lower than well it might. On the 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



123 



one part, it becomes tacitly a rule (and especi- 
ally while so much extravagance is abroad) to 
hold exciting themes under interdiction ; and on 
the other part, a point of good-breeding and 
of deference, not to moot any such questions. 
There is left open whatever is most trite, vapid, 
or unimportant. 

But that kind of discretion which seeks safety 
in ignorance and silence, is short-sighted and 
pregnant with danger : or if there have been 
times when it might be available, this is not 
such a time. The remarkable tendency to ex- 
travagance and exaggeration which distinguishes 
the present era, we may confidently say is to be 
encountered and held in check, by nothing short 
of free, candid, intelligent, biblical learning. 
Cautions, interdictions, comminations, will not 
serve us : such modes of treatment may retain 
within the hounds of sobriety those who are in 
little danger of being seduced from it, namely — 
the timid and the sluggish ; but will only hasten 
the departure of such as we shall most grieve to 
see led away. It is not unfair to regard the 
heresies, and the follies, and the mischievous 
conceits that are now preying upon the intes- 
tines of the church, as the natural consequence 
of the unthoughtful aud unstudious habits, that 
have grown upon us. During now a long course 
of years we have been running hither and thi- 
ther — spending our days in crowds — have lost 
all relish for mental labour — have especially 



124 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



abhorred the toil of private meditation, and have 
applauded that only which tends to maintain 
and promote an artificial agitation of the spirit. 
We deny a hearing to writers who ask to con- 
verse with the Reader in his closet. We have 
become superficial, not to say frivolous, in 
matters of religion : or, in a word, have re- 
duced ourselves to a condition in which we have 
no alternative, but to follow every egregious 
phantasy that shews itself, or to wrap ourselves 
in the thick mantle of ignorance and apathy. — 
Poor preparation this, for arduous times ! 

We do not look to the consequences of that 
movement which is rapidly going on. When- 
ever the Christian community comes to be 
pretty evenly divided between the adherents 
of a servile sobriety on the one side, and the 
eager votaries of novelty on the other, it must 
soon happen that all high belief and credulity 
will belong to the latter ; while a disposition 
hard to name, but not altogether unlike scepti- 
cism, will characterize (or secretly influence) the 
former. Visionaries and fanatics, of all classes, 
feel, as by instinct, that to admit any sort of 
check in their course — to listen at all to mere 
reason, or to grant that any dogma is less than 
infallibly certain, is to lose hold of their prop : 
the tumid expansion of the mind dwindles ; 
a chill enters the heart ; and all is lost ! — 
Reckless belief, more and more voracious every 
day, is the necessary mode of this order of 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE, 



125 



feeling ; and it must be granted to find a 
palliation in what is now happening around 
us, when a bold Atheism in one quarter, and 
the spread of an insidious theological infidelity 
in another, seem to make imblenching faith the 
capital virtue of a Christian. 

Yet who can suppose that this exorbitant 
credulity, which overlays Christianity with ab- 
surdities, can ever make head against unbelief ? 
Much rather does it promote the mischief it 
oppugns. This at least is clearly seen by the 
discreet party among us ; and the inward dis- 
gust given them by the vehemence and intem- 
perance of many, disposes them to entertain, 
too favourably, the modern sceptical theory of 
interpretation. It is not that this theory is 
knowingly accepted or accredited ; but it lodges 
itself in our closets ; is spoken with in secret ; 
advice is asked of it under difficulties. We 
are dealing with the German Infidelity, much 
as an honourable man who has fallen into em- 
barrassments holds a parley at a private door 
with a usurer, whom he knows to be plotting 
his ruin. 

The truth must be confessed, that the foreign 
Biblical criticism severely tries our English or- 
thodoxv. It tries us not because it is strong 
and sound ; but because we have not in readi- 
ness either that exercised power of mind, or that 
erudition, wherewith it should be encountered. 
There is indeed a bluff pertinacity which may 



126 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



be a proper defence in a moment of surprise ; 
but it must be used only for a moment ; that is, 
only until we can assume our weapons. In adopt- 
ing a permanent mode of repelling those who 
assail our convictions, we must neither take a 
lesson from the stupid and obdurate animal that 
rolls himself up, and presents his globe of bristles 
to his foe ; nor from the timid one that runs to 
his burrow at any alarm. If indeed we cannot 
rebut German infidelity by reason and learning, 
our prospects are deplorable. 

Against the licentious impiety of France, 
which, blown high by the winds of political 
agitation, broke upon our shores forty years 
ago, and threatened to shatter the entire struc- 
ture of our Christianity, we were (as the event 
proved) pretty well provided. We understood 
the grounds of our faith, as then assailed ; and 
adhered, not blindly, but intelligently, to our 
principles. France, rife with profligate sophistry, 
and bold by ignorance, challenged us tauntingly 
to throw off, as she had done, the "obsolete 
belief," and to become, like her young sons-— 
" gods, knowing good and evil." But we under- 
stood, far better than herself, the merits of the 
question : we looked to that question manfully ; 
gained new convictions ; and under the aid of 
the Divine Favour, held in the main, our glory, 
as "a nation keeping the Truth." 

— And we still hold it, but are now put in 
peril by a far more insidious attack upon the 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 



127 



first principles of faith. The strength of the 
French infidelity consisted altogether (ribaldry 
apart) in an endeavour to supersede the proper 
question of historical evidence, by mooting ab- 
stract controversies which, if determined in the 
atheistic sense, would at once sweep the world 
of the notion of immortality, in whatsoever 
manner attested. This endeavour failed, partly 
because of its intrinsic absurdity ; but chiefly 
in consequence of the insuperable force of the 
direct proof of the Gospel history, which men, 
unless infatuated, could not be induced to forget. 
But we are now deterred from having prompt 
recourse to the same rational and efficacious 
means of defending our faith in miraculous in- 
tervention, by our solicitude to listen to what 
recommends itself by erudition which we wist- 
fully admire, and dare not call in question. 
Every particle of the German infidelity must 
disappear when it is proved, that Jesus rose 
from the dead. W e fail, or delay, to convince 
ourselves on this capital point, because the men 
who will neither ingenuously deny it, nor can- 
didly admit it, are able to entertain us with a 
thousand felicitous elucidations of the evangelical 
records, such as we had not dreamed of. 

To refuse a hearing to these men would be 
to forego an immense benefit : to expose their 
error in the manner it demands, would seem 
ungrateful ; or it would ask for more energy and 
promptitude than is found among us. Or let it 



128 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



be said,, that we are dislreartened by the con- 
scious want of that original erudition in which 
the foreign professors excel. Alas ! we have to 
import learning from Germany, before we can 
say any thing to its sophistry ! 

In this exigence, some betake themselves to a 
rude persistence in whatever they have here- 
tofore thought to be true, whether so or not ; 
some to virulent declamation against, they know 
not what Demon, called Neology ; and some 
to a timid, respectful, inconclusive armistice 
with the adversary ; the result of which must 
be advantage to the assailant, and loss and 
damage to the weaker side. Meanwhile the 
main problem of German infidelity is not dealt 
with ; and there is reason to fear that the full 
effect of its sophisms upon English Christianity 
has not yet displayed itself. 

But it is not altogether improbable that the 
course of affairs in the north and centre of 
Europe may so set at large the German infi- 
delity as shall disabuse our English deference 
towards it. Set it at large — that is to say, 
release the learned stipendiaries of the foreign 
universities, from the embarrassment they labour 
under of holding their appointments as teachers 
of Christianity. Here and there a fond dreamer 
excepted, men will not go on toiling, year after 
year, in the bootless task of reconciling things 
which they well know to be incompatible — 
except from an imperative motive. Provide for 



STATE OF SACRED SCIENCE. 129 



these professors liberally in another manner, and 
we should soon cease to be either instructed or 
annoyed by their biblical speculations. Give 
them posts and emoluments, on some other con- 
dition, and they would for ever leave prophets 
and apostles alone. Many of them, no doubt, 
are men of honourable feeling, and it is a pity 
that their services were not at once discharged 
from religion, of which, with all their learning, 
they know little, and were concentrated upon 
general literature, which they might promote and 
adorn. 

Should such a revolution occur, and the 
German Biblists become, either true Christians, 
or honest unbelievers, what is the course our 
English divines are to take ? Shall they, to 
hide more speedily the shame of their late 
deference to men who must have made a jest 
of such homage, banish from their shelves and 
their memories for ever the entire mass of scep- 
tical criticism? This would be pusillanimous. 
Rather let them, with a manly energy and in- 
dustry, and in reliance upon the aid of the Divine 
Instructor, move on, and occupy the vacant and 
desolate ground of theology. Let them so be- 
come Masters of whatever relates, remotely or 
immediately, to religion, as that they may avail 
themselves of the ill-directed learning of the 
modern foreign scholars, and feel as secure from 
the mischief it contains, as we do when we turn 

K 



130 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



to the admirable literary labours of the Bene- 
dictines, or the Jesuits. 

We must learn, by the aid of an invigorated 
and well-informed industry, fitting the urgency 
of the times, to combine the public labours of 
Christian Charity, with arduous studies ; and 
especially with the habit of profound meditation 
upon the higher matters of the Divine Testi- 
mony. 



VIII. 



THE HIDDEN WORLD. 

" THE THINGS THAT ARE UNSEEN ARE ETERNAL." 



The main prerogative of the human mind is 
its power of gathering general principles from 
a multitude of diversified forms or appearances. 
This faculty, to a greater or less extent, de- 
velops itself in all men ; but in some is so 
vigorous that it predominates, and gives law to 
the dispositions and pursuits : in such instances 
its exercise is attended with pleasurable emo- 
tions of the most vivid sort. The pre-eminence 
of the faculty of generalization constitutes what 
is termed the philosophic character. 

The delight wherewith minds of this class 
contemplate universal truths does not so much 
spring from perceiving that some general prin- 
ciple holds good and reappears in a great number 
of instances very nearly, or perfectly resembling, 
one the other, as from discovering the occult 
presence or efficacy of some such principle in 
a multiplicity of cases which have few points, 
or perhaps no other point of alliance beside 
this one of their obedience to the same abstract 
law. 

k 2 



■Ml 



132 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



The more there is of external diversity, or un- 
likeness, among particular instances thus allied 
by their subjection to a common rule, so much 
the more of satisfaction or delight will be afforded 
to the mind when it detects the hidden prin- 
ciple of union. And not merely does diversity 
of form enhance the pleasure of generalization, 
for it is augmented, also, by mere remoteness of 
time or place. Thus, if we could glance for a 
moment at the surface of some world immensely 
distant from our own, and there recognize the 
operation of the same principles of life and 
organization with which here we are familiar, 
this perception of analogy would generate a 
pleasurable surprise, made the more intense 
by the recollection of the vast stretch, or wide 
empire, of such common laws. 

These elements of intellectual enjoyment are 
richly furnished by the studies of the naturalist. 
— Now, it may be, he compares family with 
family of the vegetable and animal world ; and, 
after marking the ostensible peculiarities of each, 
descends beneath the surface of their external 
differences, and lays open those great and uni- 
form principles of mechanical or chemical struc- 
ture to which all are conformed ; and (if the 
figure may be used) he listens, and hears all 
beings uttering, in their several dialects, one 
and the same code of physical existence. Or, 
turning from the present system of things, the 
lover of nature explores the deep strata of the 



THE HIDDEN WORLD. 



133 



earth, gathers thence the fossil remains of long 
extinct tribes, and, with more pleasure than the 
vulgar can conceive of, or he express, brings to 
light the unvarying laws of animal organization, 
as they held their sway ages ago, among orders 
the most strangely unlike to the species of the 
recent world. Whether he looks to the extreme 
distances of space, or of time, the naturalist, 
after giving a moment to the obvious or com- 
mon gratification that springs from novelty and 
diversity, seeks and soon finds the more lasting 
and substantial pleasures of reason, while mark- 
ing the oneness and harmony of nature, even 
where her clothing and her colours, and her 
proportions have the least of uniformity. 

It is by her diversities — her gay adornments, 
and her copious fund of forms, and her sportive 
freaks of shape and colour, that Nature allures 
the eye of man, while she draws him on to the 
more arduous, but more noble pursuit of her 
hidden analogies. Unlikeness awakens his atten- 
tion ; uniformity, or simplicity, fixes and enchains 
it ; and, by the pleasure it confers, ensures, on 
his part, the laborious investigation of abstruse 
principles. 

While the human mind is thus employed, an 
insensible process goes on, the effect of which is 
gradually to invest general truths with a sort of 
majesty, as well as beauty ; so that, at length, 
this new charm prevails over the graces and 
attractions of exterior diversity, and imparts 



134 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



more and more force and advantage to that 
which is occult, until it quite overpowers that 
which is visible. 

Thus it is that, in the course of philosophical 
pursuits, abstract principles come forth more 
and more into the light — stand out with greater 
distinctness before the mind, and, ere long, the 
laws which at first were apprehended with some 
degree of painful effort, occupy it as pleasant 
and facile matters in the hour of relaxation, as 
well as engage it in the season of strenuous ex- 
ertion. At last, whatever is universal prevails 
altogether over whatever is individual, and the 
rational faculty, getting released from the dis- 
turbance and fascination of things external, 
accidental, trivial, contemplates with open eye 
all that is great and permanent. 

The whole evidence of our modern physical 
science serves to establish the belief (a belief 
in itself highly reasonable) that the mechanical 
and chemical laws which prevail in our planet 
are common to other planets, and to other 
systems, even the most remote of them ; so 
that, in this sense, the inhabitant of any one 
world would find himself at home in any other : 
just as the traveller, how much soever he may 
be for a moment perplexed by diversity of 
climate, or strangeness of foreign manners, soon 
confesses that nature and man are essentially 
the same in all countries and climates. 



THE HIDDEN WORLD. 



135 



But, on the other hand, it cannot well be 
doubted, that the same principle of inexhaustible 
variety which, as we see, in our world, throws 
out so many thousand forms of beauty, is also 
in full play in other worlds, and takes its range 
as freely in one district of the universe as in 
another. If so, it follows that, could we visit 
and explore other regions, or were permitted 
to tread the fields of space, and to set foot, as 
pilgrims, upon distant spheres, each newly dis- 
covered world must amaze the eye, by its sin- 
gular fashion, or peculiar aspect, or particular 
mould of beauty : each would present its proper 
and distinguishing style of symmetry and colour. 
Nevertheless, beneath all these diversities, and 
amid the confusion of these special graces, there 
would still be couched (as the supposition im- 
plies) the few great canons of organic combi- 
nation ; so that each planet of all the skies 
would at once challenge to itself an individuality, 
and confess its relationship, or bond of alliance, 
with all the rest. 

And who shall duly conceive of that emotion 
of wonder and pleasure with which the forms 
and contrivances of so many dissimilar worlds 
must present to a rational mind, what may well 
be called, the majesty or awful force and sanc- 
tion of those few canons to which we find sub- 
mission is made in all regions of the material 
system ? In returning to our abode from an 
excursion such as we have imagined, the familiar 



136 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



objects that adorn it, ceasing to attract the eye 
by their individuality, would henceforward stand 
before us as the mere types or symbols of the 
abstract truths that had now gained possession 
of the mind. 

We may safely employ the analogy which has 
thus been drawn from the material world, and 
transfer it, with its inferences, to the intellectual 
and spiritual system. And we institute our pa- 
rallel as follows. — It is not to be questioned that 
the laws of the Divine Government, not less than 
the first principles of the material world, are 
one and the same in all places of the universe ; 
for these laws are nothing else than expressions 
of the Eternal Excellence, of its goodness, wisdom, 
and purity. As in the Supreme Being there is 
no variableness ; so neither can there be con- 
trariety or opposition of purposes within the 
circle of his administration. Nevertheless, though 
the ultimate issues of the moral system must be 
one and unchanging, and must belong to all 
possible cases, yet is it reasonable to believe that 
the modes under which this one purpose or rule 
of the divine government reaches its accomplish- 
ment are as various as the worlds wherein it is 
taking its course are many. In other words, we 
are compelled to suppose, on the one hand, that 
the intelligent universe presents an absolute unity 
of principle ; and on the other, that it offers 
infinite dissimilarities of means and events. If 



THE HIDDEN WORLD. 



137 



each sphere or planet has its own physical 
character — its peculiar fashion and form, so 
doubtless has each family of intelligent beings 
its special destiny, its single and peculiar history, 
and its individual round of fortunes. The ways 
of Him who sits on the throne of universal do- 
minion are "a great deep, and of his judgments," 
or dispensations, "there is no end." 

Now in the very same way that extensive 
generalization on the field of physical science im- 
parts gradually to universal laws a predominance 
in the mind over visible appearances and single 
instances ; so, by an analogy of principle, would 
an extensive knowledge of the intellectual and 
moral system, as it now exists, or has heretofore 
developed itself, in other worlds, produce a simi- 
lar prevalence of abstract truths over the im- 
pression of particular facts. If a moral instead 
of a physical process of generalization could be 
pursued by the human mind in its passage from 
system to system; and if it could listen to the 
history, witness the condition, and learn the 
destiny, of thousands and thousands again of 
immortal tribes, whatever was uniform or fixed 
in the maxims of the divine government, and 
which presented itself ever and anew in every 
world, would at length assume to itself a para- 
mount importance, and fill the faculty of rational 
contemplation almost to the exclusion of lesser 
objects. 

Let it be granted that, for a while — perhaps 



138 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



long, the spirit of the traveller through the 
universe would be overpowered by its emotions 
of amazement and curiosity, in contemplating so 
many diversities of social constitution, so much 
strange magnificence, so many new forms of 
greatness or splendour ; the energies, revo- 
lutions, adventures of innumerable families. 
This must be ; but it is certain that a mind 
constituted like that of man, would, at length (if 
we may use the term) collapse, or fall in upon 
its centre ; it must return, and take up its proper 
nature — its innate usage of generalization ; it 
must court the calmness of reason, as a relief 
from the turmoil, and perplexity, and fatigue, of 
looking so much abroad. Then would com- 
mence that process of the understanding which 
digests and simplifies multifarious objects, and 
by which the burden and distress of too much 
variety is relieved. Or perhaps, suddenly, in 
the full course of eager contemplation, the spirit 
would be arrested by the thought of the universal 
law, which, amid these changing scenes, was 
displaying its unchanging force ; and, as with an 
instantaneous revulsion, it would at once pass 
over from things individual and visible, to things 
invisible and permanent. 

In like manner, as from physical generaliza- 
tion, the beautiful (might we say, awful) simpli- 
city of the material world fills the mind with a 
calm and elevated pleasure ; so, and with much 
more power, would a similar process, carried on 



THE HIDDEN WORLD. 



139 



while the moral world at large was passing under 
the eye, bring in upon the heart those universal 
principles of the divine government which are 
the expression of the Divine Nature. These 
principles would gradually come forth from amid 
the innumerable instances of their efficiency ; 
they would slowly and silently present themselves 
in a clearer and still clearer light ; they would 
more and more be disengaged from anomalies 
or exceptions. The unchanging and unsullied 
glories of absolute purity, wisdom, and benevo- 
lence, would, with an accelerating increase, 
prevail over the glare of individual objects. 
Whatever is limited, partial, temporary, con- 
tingent, accidental, must fade and become dim, 
or take its proper place of comparative insigni- 
ficance. Meanwhile, though the Supreme, who 
dwelleth in light inaccessible, were not visibly 
revealed, nevertheless his actual presence, as 
Ruler of all beings, would be declared in the 
brightness of his attributes ; so that the issue of 
so large a knowledge of the moral and intellectual 
system must cause, to the rational spirit, a 
vanishing of the creation, with its diversities, 
and a manifestation of the Creator in his un- 
changeable perfections. Or otherwise to ex- 
press the same thing, that which is "seen and 
temporal" would be lost in that which is "unseen 
and eternal." 



IX. 



THE STATE OF SECLUSION. 

" THE THINGS THAT ARE SEEN ARE TEMPORAL." 



A glimpse of the immensity of the material 
system is granted to the eye of man ; and the 
industry of science at once certifies and greatly 
extends our knowledge of the vastness of the 
creation. But it is not so with the moral system, 
of which absolutely nothing is seen beyond the 
homestead of the human family. And even of 
that small circle so small a segment comes under 
the eye of any individual, and there is in what is 
seen (itself a little portion) so much apparent 
confusion, disorder, and anomaly, that general 
principles are almost entirely hidden or lost 
among ambiguous instances, and exceptions. 

This is so much the fact, that it is not without 
painful and dubious efforts of reasoning, that the 
invariable laws of the moral world, or what may 
be called the axioms of virtue, are to be gathered, 
in the way of induction, from the course of 
human affairs. Thus it is that divine philosophy, 
though her cause is good, and her argument 
valid, is compelled to plead anxiously for her 



THE STATE OF SECLUSION. 



141 



rights against the obstreperous voice of passion 
and interest. Virtue, although reason be at her 
side, speaks in the tone of the feeble and op- 
pressed, as surrounded by the powerful and the 
unjust. It is true, that a testimony from heaven 
has come in to sustain the cause of virtue ; and 
yet, even this testimony, this voice from God 
himself, is uttered among men, not in peals of 
thunder, which all must hearken to, but as a 
whisper in the ears of those who will listen. So 
it is that those canons, or first principles of the 
moral system, by which eventually the destinies 
of all worlds are to be determined, here float 
about as matters of speculation and controversy, 
which now for a moment triumph and prevail ; 
and now again are overborne and discarded. 

Were it otherwise, that is to say, were the 
entire moral system, or a considerable portion 
of it, always exposed to our inspection, so that 
universal principles should constantly have that 
advantage over partial instances which by right 
belongs to them, in that case the dullest mind 
must admit the inference, thence accruing in 
favour of wisdom. The heaviest ear would 
then be awakened by those sounds, as of 
thunder, which would assert the unalterable 
obligations of virtue. A penetrating conviction 
of the folly and damage of vice must possess 
itself of every spirit. Our difficult methods of 
reasoning on questions of right and wrong would 
be rejected and forgotten; the dim knowledge of 



142 



SATURDAY EVENING, 



duty which now guides us, must fade ; the fal- 
tering motives of our unstable virtue must be 
superseded ; the slumber of the soul, with all 
the dreams and fantasies of that slumber, must 
be broken, and henceforth an incalculable en- 
hancement of the emotions of the moral life 
(whether for the better or the worse) must take 
place, 

A purpose wholly incompatible with any such 
enhancement or intensity of those emotions is 
manifestly to be accomplished in the present 
state; and this plainly is the reason why, so long 
as that purpose remains in suspense, no acquaint- 
ance with the great world of intelligent and 
accountable beings can be accorded to man. 
The constant rule of the existing system, and the 
common character of all its arrangements is this 
— That an equipoise of motives, a doubtful con- 
flict between antagonist principles, shall be main- 
tained. None of the elements of the moral life 
shall become so far paramount, as absolutely to 
exclude their opposites. Dispositions are to be 
formed, tried, and fixed, under circumstances 
which shall allow no overwhelming force to any 
one class of inducements ; and which shall throw 
much obscurity over abstract rules, when applied 
to specific occasions. In a word, a course of 
probation is to take place, of which it is a 
necessary condition that Evil shall often present 
itself under a semblance of Good ; and Good, as 



THE STATE OF SECLUSION. 



143 



often, be shrouded under a disguise of Evil ; so 
that an ill choice may become possible to a 
rational agent, and a right choice be rendered 
difficult. It is evident that the specific intention 
of the system under which we are acting would 
be defeated, or surrendered, if Generalization, in 
matters of morality, could advance so far as to 
prevail over the immediate impression of parti- 
cular inducements ; or, in other words, if uni- 
versal principles — eternal truths, stood always in 
the mental perception more prominent than the 
reasons of each single occasion. 

Even if we were ignorant of the actual con- 
struction of the material world, we might antici- 
pate that — a moral system such as our own being 
supposed, the scene or theatre of exercise must 
be a place of seclusion, a narrow and limited 
area, shut out from the great world and general 
assembly of intelligent beings. The probationers 
must not see or know that, the knowledge of 
which would at once dissipate the obscurity 
which invests questions of right and wrong. 
They may indeed receive a rule of conduct, and 
they may be coldly informed of the distant con- 
sequences of their present course of action ; but 
this information must itself take its place quietly 
among those reasons that are much more valid 
than imperative. Furthermore, all free com- 
munication must be interdicted between the pro- 
bationers and those other orders of accountable 
beings who, from a larger or longer experience, 



144 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



and from a more extended knowledge of the 
divine government, might be inclined to use 
vehement dissuasions, or might even attempt to 
compel submission to the unalterable laws of that 
government. Brief intimations may reach the 
probationers ; hints, and warnings, and encou- 
ragements may be afforded to them ; but no 
open correspondence must be allowed to be held 
with the upper world ; for such correspondence 
would at once nullify the conditions of the pro- 
bationary system. 

And are not such, in fact, the circumstances 
of that abode to which the human family is con- 
fined ? The place of our trial is as effectively a 
prison, as if our sky were a hemisphere of brass. 
We may indeed look out freely on every side 
upon the populous regions of illimitable space ; 
but with the inhabitants of those regions we can 
hold no converse. Or if we look within the walls, 
it is still, and always true, that " the things 
eternal," that is to say, the permanent and uni- 
versal principles of the moral system, the con- 
stant tendencies and ultimate issues of good and 
evil, are hidden and unseen ; while those things 
that are (irpoG-KaLpa) for a season, " the things 
temporal," do, by their irregularities, their com-, 
plexity, their very insignificance, as well as their 
obtrusive glare, serve more to conceal than to 
display, more to confound than to illustrate, the 
great axioms of eternal virtue. The attractions, 
the dangers, the urgent interests of the present 



THE STATE OF SECLUSION. 



145 



state, form, may we say, a screen which, with 
its gaudy and various colours, its painted pomps 
and trickeries, hangs on every side before the 
eye of man, encircling his theatre of exercise, 
and fencing out from his knowledge the great 
world of intellectual life. 

That the rule of seclusion is the constant law of 
the divine government might be inferred, with 
some degree of certainty, from what we behold 
of the actual construction of the material uni- 
verse. Why is it that the solid frame- work of 
nature (the purpose and intention of which can 
be nothing else than to sustain conscious beings) 
instead of presenting a continuous surface, that 
might be traversed from side to side, is actually 
broken up into innumerable globes ; and these 
globes suspended in thin space at incalculable 
distances one from another ? Why is it that, to 
obtain standing room for his intelligent family, 
the Creator has taken a latitude, a height, a 
depth, which to created minds is equivalent to 
absolute infinitude ? Why, unless it be to give 
effect to this necessary law of seclusion and 
separation ? We say that there is seen, legibly 
inscribed upon the breadth of the midnight skies, 
a truth succinctly expressed in the words — 
" the things eternal (universal) are unseen." 

And that special arrangement of the material 
system is peculiarly worthy of notice, which, 
while all intercourse between neighbouring 
worlds is effectively prevented, allows the vastness 



146 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



of the creation to be a spectacle to each por- 
tion of it. In truth, nothing in physical phi- 
losophy is so amazing as the means by which 
objects, much more remote one from the other 
than the utmost range of calculation can extend 
to, are made perceptible one to the other. If the 
mere greatness of creation is wonderful, there is 
a superlative wonder in the fact that this great- 
ness should be cognizable from every point ; or 
that, at any point where a percipient being may 
have his station, thither, as to a centre, the lines 
of knowledge should converge, so that the mind 
of that being should gather to itself true and 
distinct notices of whatever floats within the 
immeasurable sphere of stellar light ! 

And if so amazing an apparatus has been had 
recourse to for the purpose of conveying to us 
a knowledge of the greatness of the creation, if 
God, after extending his productive power incal- 
culably, has superadded to the whole a lustre 
that exhibits all to all ; so likewise has he 
enabled us, by fair methods of inference and 
analogy, to attain the belief that all worlds are, 
like our own, the homes of life and intelligence ; 
and we are then, by the same rules of analogy, 
led to suppose that the occupants of each of 
these widely separated spheres are, like ourselves, 
confined to their several birth-places — are, like 
ourselves, interdicted correspondence with the 
universal realm, and denied, as we, the benefit — 
if indeed it were a benefit, that might accrue 



THE STATE OF SECLUSION. 



147 



from a more extensive experience than that 
which belongs to their home history. 

This same law of seclusion which we find to 
be written upon the material universe, is also 
carried out through all the arrangements of our 
own world, and in many modes takes effect, 
until each individual of mankind is straitened in 
his sphere, and shut up within a circle exceed- 
ingly small ; so that if his particular experience 
be compared with the entire experience, not 
indeed of the universe, but only of the human 
race, or even of one generation of the race, the 
disproportion is incalculable ; and so it is cer- 
tainly true to him, that " the things eternal 
(universal) are unseen ;" while the things which 
he actually beholds are those only that are par- 
tial, and " for a season." 

To effectuate the purposes of the moral sys- 
tem, and to secure the necessary conditions of 
the exercise of principles, it is not enough that 
man should be confined to one world ; he 
must, within that world, be again and yet again 
secluded ; and this is done by various means; as 
first — The entire human family is parcelled out 
through time, by the succession of generations : 
and as the term of life barely measures two of 
the periods wherein the race is renovated, each 
generation knows only its immediate predeces- 
sors ; and, except so far as tradition and history 
convey to it, like fragments from a wreck, some 

l 2 



148 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



loose particulars of the knowledge of the more 
ancient races of men, each generation, each suc- 
cessive rank, comes forward as a novice upon the 
stage of life, knowing absolutely nothing of all 
that is to follow it, and almost nothing of what 
preceded it. The rolling and swelling flood of 
human life moves on in billows so brief and 
proud, that, in rising to the brow of each watery 
ridge, nothing of the general expanse is beheld ; 
nothing seen, but the surge and fall of the pre- 
cursive wave. 

Those peculiar physical sentiments that distin- 
guish the several stages of life, or that naturally 
spring from the circumstances attending each 
stage, greatly intercept the natural transmission 
or descent of experience, from one generation to 
another. The pride and heat of youthful hope 
render the youth, conscious as he is of superior 
vigour, impatient of paternal admonition ; and 
then the pride and shame of the father, whose 
experience is in fact the history of his own 
follies or crimes, again forbid, on his part, a true 
and candid delivery of the wisdom he has so 
hardly gained. That knowledge of life which 
the son receives from his father, is indeed valu- 
able ; but it is scarcely more than a grain or 
two in quantity. 

Again, the human race of each generation 
is divided, and effectively sequestered by — re- 
moteness of geographical position, by antipathy 
of races, by discordancy of tastes, and modes of 



THE STATE OF SECLUSION. 



149 



life; and, most of all, by diversity of speech. 
Speech, the prerogative and glory of man, the 
instrument both of knowledge and virtue, and 
the principal organ of advancement in every 
line, has become jarred by so many discords, 
that, though it well subserves its purposes within 
particular circles, it utterly refuses to favour 
universal intercourse ; and on the contrary, en- 
hances and perpetuates all those other aliena- 
tions that spring from remoteness of place, or 
dissimilarity of habits. It is by language, the 
very means of communion, that mankind is 
severed and estranged, and almost as much re- 
pelled, one from another, as if they were of 
different species, or had come together from 
different worlds. Who would have thought that 
men, the offspring of one womb, and parted 
perhaps only by a river or chain of mountains, 
should ever be reduced to the poverty of mute 
signs and gestures I 

But the law of seclusion does not here cease 
to operate. By the perils, necessities, and straits 
of ordinary life, by the pressure of every day's 
burden, by the opposition of private interests, 
and by the contracted motives of selfishness, 
every man, more or less, has his attention so 
concentrated upon the small surface of his parti- 
cular advantages, his hopes and his fears, that 
he is very far from being a free spectator of that 
circle or theatre of life which actually comes 
within the range of his observation. As his 



150 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



purposes are partial, so are his habits of contem- 
plation : he walks in a single path, and gathers all 
the wisdom that he does at all gather, on the 
narrow line of that path. Not one man in 
ten thousand is as wise as the facts which he 
knows, or might know, would make him. Then 
moreover it is implied in the very supposition 
of a system wherein many independent impulses 
are incessantly traversing each other, that each 
train of events shall present as much of intri- 
cacy, or confusion, and of apparent anomaly, 
as of order, or of conformity with abstract prin- 
ciple : every man, in his private sphere, has to 
do, not with the average result of general rules ; 
but with the special chances of a single throw : 
the incidents and occasions that come athwart 
him, for the trial of his motives, are fortuitous 
combinations, more than instances that might 
exemplify any given rule. Every man meets 
with at least as many exceptions, or seeming 
exceptions, as cases in point. So much am- 
biguity attaches to the course of affairs that 
ordinarily, what is most obtrusive, or most im- 
portunate and clamorous in urging its preten- 
sions, is precisely what ought to be disregarded, 
and put out of the question of right and wrong. 
Comparatively few of the matters that come 
under the hand of man, range themselves with- 
out doubt beneath general principles. Scarcely 
does he catch a glimpse, amid every day's hurry 
and care, of the working of universal moral laws ; 



THE STATE OF SECLUSION. 



151 



but rather is tempted, every hour, to believe 
that exceptions, if not more frequent, are at least 
more valid than general rules. 

The faculty of generalization is indeed given 
to man, and he has also the propensity to 
employ it ; and there are individuals who, in 
the exercise of this power, actually gain much 
acquaintance with what is abstractedly true and 
permanent ; but in looking to the mass of man- 
kind, we must confess that moral generalization 
does scarcely more than bud, or give some inert 
indications of its existence, just as the chrysalis 
does, of the instincts of its future activity. Every 
circumstance of vulgar life opposes the disposi- 
tion of the soul to spring upward, or stretch the 
wing towards the higher sphere of universal 
principles. The smallness of common affairs, as 
well as their urgency ; their uniformity, or 
sameness of recurrence, and their multiplicity ; 
the contaminations of life, and its ridicule also ; 
the absurdity and the folly that infest all parts 
of human conduct, as well as the abjectness of 
the miseries that afflict mankind, are all so many 
causes of depression, or of limitation, that con- 
fine man to a spot on the surface of earth, and 
hedge about his prospect. 

It is true that, in every age, the more intel- 
ligent and sagacious portion of mankind has, 
amid the confusion and ambiguity of the moral 
system, rightly inferred its permanent laws ; and, 
with more or less admixture of error, has reached 



152 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



and defined the unalterable canons of virtue. 
But (revelation apart) the process through which 
this wisdom was gained has been too abstruse, 
or difficult, to recommend itself to vulgar minds; 
and such, conversant always with instances that 
seem to contradict the rule, have been prone 
to believe that, to pay homage to abstract 
truth, is to worship a powerless or a sleeping 
divinity. 

It may perplex us to contemplate the con- 
dition of man, as thus conversant as much with 
the anomalies as with the rules of the system 
wherein he has to act ; nevertheless the fact of 
his being so placed, whatever purpose it may be 
destined to fulfil, is manifestly only a part of the 
universal constitution to the conditions of which, 
as it seems, the innumerable families of the 
creation, as well as ourselves, are subjected. 
If men, individually, are confined to a narrow 
line of things, and if nations are debarred much 
intercourse, one with another, and if generations 
come and pass away with little knowledge of 
their precursors, and transmitting little of them- 
selves to their successors, all this separation and 
seclusion is only the ramification of that great 
principle which, as we see, has broken up the 
solid material of the universe into innumerable 
globules, and has swung each little sphere in the 
centre of an impassable solitude of space. 

But how much soever of ambiguity or con- 



THE STATE OF SECLUSION. 



153 



fusion may attend univeral moral principles, 
so far as they are to be gathered by each in- 
dividual from his particular experience, neither 
those principles, nor the method of establishing 
them, are really invalid, or vague. The true 
description of them is, that they are at once 
demonstrable, or certain ; but not obtrusive. 
This is the uniform character of every kind of 
practical or theoretic wisdom in the present 
state ; — it is valid, and ascertainable ; but not 
loud or importunate in its mode of challenging 
attention. Whoever will, may acquaint himself 
with truth and virtue ; but neither truth nor 
virtue stands on the highway, or forces herself 
upon the notice of passengers. All this is only 
in harmony with the apparent intention of the 
visible world, considered as a framework for the 
support of a moral system. The very same law 
which divides the family of God into so many 
separate communities, imposes (within the circle 
of each community) a reserve, a silence, upon 
wisdom and virtue. 

Wisdom and virtue calmly utter their 
maxims ; but compel no attention, enforce no 
obedience : they are not trumpet-tongued ; nei- 
ther do they adduce, as they might, in support 
of their doctrine, the evidence of that great 
book of facts wherein is written the complete 
history of man. Let it only be imagined that, 
in every controversy between the inducements 
of evil, and the reasons of virtue, there were 



154 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



exhibited to the wavering spirit all the cases in 
point, and all the issues of those cases, that 
stand upon the faithful records of the human 
family of all ages. What impetuosity of passion, 
what audacity, could resist the inference in favour 
of virtue, or rush upon its guilty pleasures 
through the crowd of a million of victims ? No 
such force is granted, in the present state, to the 
motives of goodness ; and, turn which way we 
will, it is always true, that, "the things eter- 
nal are unseen — the things that are seen are 
temporal." 



X. 



THE LIMITS OF REVELATION. 

" AND WE PROPHESY IN PART." 



Does then Christianity fall in with the law of 
reserve and seclusion which, as we see, is in- 
scribed upon the heavens, and which we find to 
belong to all the arrangements of the present 
state; or does it stand in contrariety to this 
great rule : is it in harmony, or out of harmony 
with the actual constitution of the moral world ? 
Does it come to us (as the maxims of virtue 
come) unobtrusively, yet validly? Like them, 
does it speak to those who will listen, and 
convince those who give it attention; or does 
it peal as thunder over the heads of men, and 
compel all to confess its authority ? 

The question is answered at once by looking 
to the actual position of Christianity in the 
world: it has convinced and satisfied all who 
have given heed to its evidence ; but it has left 
at their full liberty all contemners. Nothing is 
more facile than to remain in ignorance of God's 
revelation, and under that ignorance to scorn it. 
This is as easy as to quench the light of natural 



156 



SATURDAY EVENING, 



virtue by a course of profligacy, or to acquire 
a contempt of all goodness, by familiarity with 
vice. 

And if Christianity, like natural morality, may 
readily be set at naught, so also does it maintain 
its consistency with the apparent intention of 
the construction of the material universe, by the 
parsimony of its discoveries, and by abstaining 
from the conveyance of any particle of know- 
ledge which is not strictly connected with the 
motives of human virtue. Had it been the con- 
trivance of man, it would assuredly have over- 
stepped this modesty, and have challenged the 
wonder of mankind by many amazing discoveries 
of things unseen. Or had it been an accidental 
lifting of the veil of the hidden world by the 
wantonness of some supernal hand, it would 
have indulged human curiosity with flashes or 
glimpses of things beyond our sphere. But 
Christianity is a well-digested and premeditated 
act of the Divine government ; and therefore 
adheres to the secrecy that sits awful mistress 
of creation, nor utters a syllable of loose or 
gratuitous knowledge. 

The veil of the Temple of the universal king- 
dom is not rent — is not raised, by the coming 
of the Gospel. A voice from behind that veil 
delivers to men the brief sentences of the Divine 
will ; but neither does the speaker invite inter- 
locution, nor are the things spoken of exhibited : 
— the messenger from heaven does not abide 



THE LIMITS OF REVELATION. 



157 



with us ; does not spend his leisure in our com- 
pany ; is not to be surprised by questions of 
curiosity in moments of complacency : he has im- 
parted that which was to be given — and is gone ! 

We may, if we please, quarrel with this rigour 
in the communication of knowledge. How easy 
would it have been, and how confirmatory too 
of virtue, to have given us the history of other 
races, and to have shewn, in the story of their 
destiny, the force and sanction of the unalterable 
rules of goodness ! Yes ; but first, let us repro- 
bate that mechanism of the universe which has 
converted the abodes of intelligent beings into 
prisons, and encircled each family, as with a 
rampart of iron and of brass. In the pride of 
speculation we repudiate Christianity, because, 
while professing to come from the Creator of all 
worlds, it brings us not at all into converse or 
contact with any world but our own : the Gospel 
is as contractedly mundane, as if its Author had 
been ignorant of any other sphere than this. 
Christianity allies itself not at all with the dis- 
coveries, and breathes not the spirit of astro- 
nomy. — No. But does not the first and chief 
inference we derive from the discoveries of this 
same astronomy impel us to believe that God is 
now actually dealing with the various tribes of 
his intelligent family, as well as with ourselves, 
apart one from the other ? This very secrecy 
which so much offends us in the Scriptures, do 
we not read it among the stars ? 



158 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Whether we speak of the evidence of the 
divine original of the Scriptures, or of the moral 
principles they contain, the same rule holds 
good, which we have noticed to prevail in refer- 
ence to the maxims of natural virtue. Those 
maxims may be ascertained and established on 
the most satisfactory grounds ; but they never 
obtrude themselves upon our attention ; and it 
is always practicable to pass them by, and go on 
in contempt of their voice. If it were otherwise; 
that is to say, if the principles of integrity, of 
honour, of temperance, of benevolence, were 
loud and imperious, and were wont to vindicate 
their authority by instantaneous retributions, 
falling on the head of every transgressor, there 
could be no room for the sort of trial human 
nature is actually undergoing ; and no place for 
such virtue, as human virtue is required to be. 
Space, necessarily, is given to the debauched to 
make mockery of all goodness, and to call virtue 
hypocrisy, if the virtuous are to be trained to 
constancy in adhering to their principles, amid 
obloquy and contempt. 

The very same rule demands that, if the 
calmness and energy of faith are to be proved, 
scepticism should have play, and should be per- 
mitted to run its round of scorn without rebuke. 
This scope given to disbelief in regard to the 
truth of revealed religion, or to its single doc- 
trines, is precisely parallel to the scope af- 
forded to profligacy and fraud, in relation to the 



THE LIMITS OF REVELATION. 159 



principles of natural virtue. It is not that these 
principles are in themselves ambiguous, or un- 
fixed, for the contrary is true ; but the proof of 
them, with their sanctions, does not flame out 
before our eyes, does not ring in our ears ; in a 
word, is not obtrusive, and therefore may readily 
be neglected and forgotten, And so, as to the 
proof and authority of religion — it is complete, 
it is irrefragable, it is superabundant in quan- 
tity, it is perfect in quality ; but it no more 
forces itself upon the notice of men, than the 
magnificence of the midnight skies constrains the 
vulgar mass of mankind to adore the power and 
majesty of the Creator. Of the myriads that 
at night are thronging the streets of a populous 
city, perhaps not more than one in ten thousand 
ever pauses on his path to read the great lessons 
of theology that are taught by the visible heavens ; 
nevertheless it is always true, whether that truth 
be heeded or not, that — "the heavens declare 
the glory of God." And it is thus that the 
brighter glories of the Divine Nature are spread 
forth upon the page of Scripture ; but they 
attract only the eye that freely fixes itself upon 
them ; and whoever turns away in listlessness, 
may do so at his pleasure. 

The imperative and overwhelming force that 
might be brought in upon the side of virtue from 
an unreserved discovery of things universal and 
eternal is, as we see, rigidly denied to man. 
Nature denies it, by confining him to the acre 



160 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



of earth on which he is born ; and Revelation 
denies it, by the stern reserve, the paucity, and 
the incompleteness of its communications. This 
being our actual position (at which it would be 
at once a folly and an impiety to murmur) there 
are two courses for our choice ; and not only 
must every man eventually choose between the 
two ; but every man's present state, moral and 
religious, is practically a choice of the one or the 
other. Before every man, and on his right hand 
and on his left, thronging, clamorous, and im- 
portunate, are the things " seen and temporal," 
those single and insulated facts, those special and 
individual occasions, which urge themselves upon 
his regard; but always with a false argument, 
because it is a partial argument. But there are 
also, within the knowledge of every man, more 
or less distinctly, the things " unseen and eter- 
nal," or those universal and unalterable truths 
which must, in the end, rule his destiny, for the 
better or the worse. To follow and to comply 
with the solicitations of the things " seen and 
temporal," is, in all cases, and with an infallible 
certainty, to go on towards damage, overthrow, 
and misery. Nothing can avert the ruin, nothing 
dissolve the connexion between the course and 
its issue ; — if that course be persisted in. 

But on the contrary, to draw our motives from 
those principles that are universal, " unseen and 
eternal," is to follow a road which, by a like 
infallible necessity, leads to perfection and felicity. 



THE LIMITS OF REVELATION. 161 

The line of truth and virtue is always, find it 
where we may, a line drawn from the circum- 
ference to the centre ; and to no other centre 
than that of the Divine Purity and Blessedness. 
Now the office of Christianity is to supersede 
the innumerable questions and perplexities that 
must arise, even to the most upright and per- 
spicacious minds, in ascertaining the path of 
eternal truth. The Scriptures, by a multitude 
of categorical decisions, adapted to all occasions, 
distinguish between the things seen and temporal, 
and those that are unseen and eternal. And to 
take them always as our directory, is to walk 
upon a path which, whether rugged or smooth, 
overshadowed or illuminated, shall bring us at 
length to immortality and joy. 

Holy Scripture, we say, is an infallible guide 
towards that which is unseen and eternal. But 
it would be in no consistency with what we see 
of the construction of the universe, in none with 
the actual position of man, such as we feel and 
know it to be, if it afforded either sensible, or 
demonstrative proof; or if, in its discoveries, it 
went at all beyond the line of its immediate 
purpose. The inspired writers avow the limita- 
tion under which they acted — " We know in 
part," say they, " and we prophesy in part." 
Noble profession ! how well beseeming the true 
and modest messengers of heaven ! How unlike 
the vain style of impostors ! 

But it behoves us distinctly to apprehend the 

M 



162 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



import of this apostolic profession ; and in doing 
so we gain some real aid by turning to contem- 
plate the material universe, whence may be 
drawn an inference highly significant to our 
purpose. Our modern philosophy establishes 
incontestably the doctrine, that the material 
system, whatever may be its extent, or even 
though it should be deemed to stretch through 
the infinitude of space, is related in all its parts 
to the whole ; or in other words, that an effi- 
cient dependency links every globe to its system ; 
and also that every system, or cluster of spheres, 
is, by the same law, connected with the great 
community of worlds among which it moves, or 
is suspended. The all-pervading principle of 
gravitation, the transmission of light, and the 
traject of comets, are manifest alliances which 
give oneness, continuity, and relation, to the 
countless assemblage of worlds around us. It 
is also more than barely probable that there 
are other, perhaps many other, influences or 
principles of interaction, which, though absolutely 
imperceptible to the senses of man, and far re- 
mote from the reach of his philosophy, do, as 
well as gravitation and light, bind together all 
the solid masses of the universe, and impart to 
each sphere an agency that extends itself to all 
others. 

Now it follows directly from this doctrine of 
the unity of the material system, and of the rela- 
tion of every part to the whole, that, although 



THE LIMITS OF REVELATION. 



163 



the mechanism or constitution of each world or 
system may,, to a certain extent, be understood 
and explained, that is to say, just so far as its 
constitution is p?ivate, there must, in each 
world, be some elements, or some energies, or 
contrivances, having relation to the universal 
system. Besides what might be termed, the local 
mechanism of every planet, there must be, in 
each, a mechanism whereby it is linked to its 
system, and to the universe. The very state- 
ment of this complicated constitution precludes 
the supposition that the whole of the mechanism 
of any single world can be understood by those, 
how sagacious soever, who are conversant only 
with that one world. Let philosophy extend 
itself as widely and as firmly as it may, it must 
never profess to have divined the entire secrets 
of the universe. For so much of the visible 
creation as comes within the circle of our obser- 
vation, is but a small part of the whole ; and 
therefore must offer to our calculations nothing 
more than partial principles. 

The unity of the visible creation — a unity that 
is demonstrable, carries with it, a fortiori, the 
unity of the intellectual and moral system to 
which it gives support. Indeed, as the intel- 
lectual and moral system is, by congruity of 
nature, more directly related to the Divine 
Being, than the material world can be, that 
very relation to the First Cause of life, and 
Centre of government, implies some sort of 
m 2 



164 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



dependency or correspondence among all the 
parts ; or even if the supposition of an absolute 
insulation of the several tribes of rational agents 
could be entertained, our inference would not be 
destroyed ; for the relation of each tribe to the 
Divine Infinitude in itself implies more of what 
is incomprehensible and unattainable, than even 
its relation to the universe of created beings 
could do. 

By the same rule then that, in the physiology 
of each planet and sun, there must be something 
local or private, and something also that serves 
as the link of connexion with the rest of the 
universe ; so, in the constitution and history of 
every family of intelligent beings, there must be 
found, not merely what belongs to that family 
singly or individually ; but what cements it to 
the great community of moral agents ; and 
moreover to the Supreme Disposer of all. 

Now if there is to be conveyed to some one 
of these families any portion of those eternal 
principles that embrace the universe of moral 
agents, and that take their reason from the con- 
stancy and infinitude of the Divine attributes, it 
is incontestably certain that such revelations can 
be nothing more than disjointed fragments, or 
insulated applications of those celestial canons to 
particular cases. By the very statement, these 
notices of things eternal are portions of infinity, 
and therefore are never to be comprehended and 



THE LIMITS OF REVELATION. 



165 



digested, or reduced to system, until infinity 
itself has been traversed and described. 

And the very same reason which compels us 
to believe that our own moral system (and every 
other) has some bond of relationship to the vast 
whole of the now-existing universe, demands 
also our belief that each successive era of the 
creation has a connexion, of effect and of cause, 
with the past and with the future. Thus, while 
there maybe certain circumstances in the condi- 
tion of an intelligent and moral community which 
find their reason in the present relation of that 
race or family to the universal family, there may 
be other circumstances, affecting it, which are 
not to be explained until reference can be had 
to the most remote transactions — past or future. 
The infinitude of space, and the infinitude of 
duration — boundless extent, and unlimited eter- 
nity, must both have their share in determining 
the actual condition of whatever exists in space 
and time. 

What created mind then shall undertake to 
calculate these two intersecting orbits, or give 
us the position of our own system upon both ? 
Powers immeasurably greater than those of man 
must fail here. Created minds, the very highest 
in excellence and power, must confess themselves 
to be always mastered by problems like these, 
that embrace the relations of infinity. This is a 
knowledge which can belong only to the Infinite 
Mind. 



166 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Nevertheless it is true that some particular 
bearings of things eternal and infinite, upon 
things finite, may be expressed, and conveyed 
by the Supreme Mind, even to an inferior order 
of intelligent beings. And it is these special 
relations of the infinite to the finite that will 
form the main topics of a Divine Revelation. 
But need it be said, that such communications 
must come in the form of categorical affirma- 
tions, and could, by no possibility, be given to 
us in their native magnitude and proportions, 
as universal truths ? The precise sense of the 
apostolic confession — "we prophesy in part," 
here meets us ; and we must admit, not only 
the fact that the Scriptures convey a very 
partial or limited knowledge of things eternal, 
or of the universal government of God ; but 
must also acknowledge, that this paucity and 
limitation is matter of inevitable necessity, arising 
from the nature of the case. 

If this be the fact, two opposite and very 
common faults in the treatment given to the 
Scriptures make themselves apparent. — The 
first is that of the Sceptical Expositor; the 
second is that of the Systematic, or dogmatical. 

The practice of the sceptical expositor is pre- 
cisely parallel to that of a physiologist, who, 
having made himself well acquainted with the 
mechanism and laws of his native planet; — 
its geology, its chemical constitution, and its 



THE LIMITS OF REVELATION. 167 

vegetable and animal organizations, should deny 
or neglect all those more mysterious and in- 
explicable phenomena which indicate the rela- 
tion of that planet to the great system of the 
universe : or if he did not treat such pheno- 
mena with contempt, should persist in the 
endeavour to explain them in connexion exclu- 
sively with the private or home economy of 
earth. On the contrary, he ought always to 
keep in mind, that this single world is an incon- 
siderable member only of a system far more 
extensive than human philosophy can embrace ; 
and that therefore it is probable — nay certain, 
that the relation of the part to the whole, 
overrules the private mechanism of each planet 
throughout. 

And it is thus that the sceptical expositor of 
Scripture, having gathered to himself (very in- 
correctly it is probable) a system of divine and 
moral philosophy, from the homestead of the 
human family, resolves to receive from God's 
Revelation not a tittle that does not naturally 
find a place in some compartment of his mun- 
dane science. Whatever, in the Scriptures, 
seems to pass on elliptically beyond the orbit 
of our world, whatever stretches itself out to 
greater dimensions than the human mind can 
readily compass, whatever dimly declares the 
relation of the human system to the universe of 
moral agents, or to the infinitude of the Divine 
Nature, all such things, because no place or 



168 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



nook can be found for them in the previously- 
manufactured philosophy of this terrene theo- 
logian, because they can be but imperfectly 
understood, or must be received, if at all, as 
bare affirmations, all these things, we say, he 
discards and contemns ; and in high scorn, casts 
them out for the acceptance of the superstitious 
vulgar. This is the wisdom of scepticism ; and 
who must not admire it ! 

The dogmatist, or framer of systematic theo- 
logy, vehemently denounces the impiety of the 
sceptic ; and seems to take a position at the 
farthest possible remove from such presumption. 
His presumption is in fact of another sort ; but 
the hypothesis, the false supposition, on which 
he proceeds, is essentially the same as that of 
the sceptic. Both the dogmatist and the 
sceptic commence their exposition of Scripture 
with the assumed principle — That there ought 
to be nothing in Revelation which may not be 
exhibited in all the proportions and relations it 
bears to other parts of our theology. They 
are both equally impatient of whatever refuses 
to go to its destined place in their philosophy : 
neither the one nor the other can tolerate those 
seeming anomalies which of necessity present 
themselves when the bearing of the infinite 
upon the finite is to be set forth. But the two, 
though animated by the same spirit of folly, 
have recourse to opposite means for ridding 



THE LIMITS OF REVELATION. 169 

themselves of the annoyance of what is intrac- 
table in Scripture. The sceptic takes the easy 
course of simply discarding all such materials. 
The dogmatist, with more reverence indeed, but 
not more modesty, retains the entire mass of 
Scripture ; but puts in movement the irresistible 
engine of his logical apparatus ; and nothing can 
withstand the stress and power of this machinery. 
In fact, absolutely nothing retains its native 
form after it has passed under the tooth and 
lever of metaphysical compression. Forth comes 
orthodox Divinity ! not indeed the sublime and 
mysterious Divinity of the Scriptures ; but that 
of the Chair. 

Meantime, with the modest majesty of Truth, 
with the awful grandeur that belongs to what 
is universal and eternal, the Scriptures hold 
forth their insulated revelations of things neces- 
sary to be known, or partly known, by man- 
kind. Silently, yet intelligibly, by their style 
and method, the inspired writers everywhere 
profess that they are conveying only some sepa- 
rate elements of Divine Science ; and each, in 
his manner, makes the acknowledgment — " We 
know in part, and we prophesy in part." 



XI. 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL 
UNIVERSE. 

"WHEN I CONSIDER THE HEAVENS WHAT IS MAN 1 ." 



An inference, either for the better or the worse, 
urges itself irresistibly upon the mind of man 
when he contemplates the nocturnal heavens; 
and if mere contemplation gives place to the 
extended knowledge and to the accuracy of 
conception which are the fruit of science, that 
inference, whether true or false, is incalculably 
strengthened in its power. With an emphasis 
of meaning it may be said that Night has 
three daughters — Religion, Superstition, and 
Atheism. 

It much imports us, who adhere to those just 
and natural impressions which lead the mind 
from the contemplation of the visible creation 
to adore the Creator, that we draw our devout 
inferences in a manner that shall be liable to no 
reasonable objection ; and the more so in the 
present age, when Atheism is hastening to oc- 
cupy the ground which Superstition long ago 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 171 

vacated, as if in fear lest Religion should at 
length come in, and fill the space that rightfully 
belongs to her. 

There can be no doubt that if the understand- 
ing of man, as well as his other faculties, were 
in a state of unimpaired simplicity, the spectacle 
of the universe would teach him piety, even if 
he had not learned it in some more direct way. 
First the exterior magnificence of the skies, so 
brightly symbolizing as it does the wealth and 
splendour of Almighty Regal Power, and then 
those severer calculations and rational conjec- 
tures, wherein the mind penetrates beyond the 
mere beauty and grandeur of the scene, and 
eagerly makes its path athwart the unmeasured 
spaces, and subjoins to what is visible, its own 
vigorous conceptions of magnitude, number, dis- 
tance ; — from both these sources, a mind retain- 
ing its integrity, would infer the great truth of 
the Divine Existence, as well as its power, and 
wisdom, and beneficence. 

But in the actual state of human nature, 
wherein the rational faculties are often uncer- 
tainly balanced between the most obvious truths, 
and the most enormous errors, not knowing 
which to choose, piety must always be first im- 
parted by other means, and the emotions be 
fixed upon their proper objects before man is 
qualified to admit the lesson written upon the 
heavens, or to adore the Creator in the sensible 
manifestations of his glory. 



172 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Piety, we say, being first imparted, the spec- 
tacle of the material universe must be consi- 
dered as the principal means available for aiding 
both the reasoning powers and the imagination, 
in their painful efforts to conceive worthily of 
the Divine Nature. Though it be well under- 
stood that matter, divisible as it is, and separable 
into elements, and measurable, can bear no true 
proportion to that nature which is spiritual, 
uncaused, and infinite, nevertheless the actual 
extension of matter through a space whereto no 
methods of human calculation can give expres- 
sion, does very sufficiently serve as an exempli- 
fication, or intelligible display of real infinitude. 
Effectively, though not strictly, the visible hea- 
vens are of infinite magnitude ; and they convey 
therefore to the mind an impression, if not a 
distinct idea, of absolute infinity, such as other- 
wise it could never have received. Moreover, 
the visible infinitude of the heavens is not a 
vacuum, is not a bare abstraction ; but, on the 
contrary, is so richly fraught with existences, 
that we receive thence at once, and in the 
closest combination, the ideas of power, and of 
intelligence, along with the notion of unbounded 
extension. In this manner, more than one or 
two of the elements of theology are made osten- 
sible to us ; and while we are becoming familiar 
with them, we are learning to pass on with some 
facility to other, and more abstruse principles of 
Divine science. It is in this process that "the 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 173 

invisible things of God are made manifest by 
the things that do appear." The nocturnal 
heavens at once symbolize and demonstrate the 
concealed existence and attributes of God, just 
as the presence and symmetry of a man are 
made known to a distant spectator, when the 
shadow of his person, in sharp outline, falls upon 
a brightly illuminated surface : we see not indeed 
the man, nor in strictness of argument is it more 
than his exterior form of which we have direct 
evidence; nevertheless we do not fail to fill up 
in idea what is wanting in formal proof; and we 
think almost as distinctly of the person as if he 
stood, without a screen, fronting us in the blaze 
of light. Thus is it that, both in the vastness 
and in the richness of the visible universe, the 
Invisible God is adumbrated. If the eye be but 
clear, we can never gaze upon the expanse of 
stars without descrying, as it were filling all the 
bright abyss of worlds, the great lines, or contour, 
of the Supreme Majesty. 

This must always be the doctrine derived by 
sound reason from the spectacle of the universe. 
But if reason be corrupted and depraved, it 
brings thence some absurdity, proportioned in 
folly to the greatness and excellence of the truth 
it rejects. The ancient prostitution of astronomy 
to the purposes of superstition and of sacerdotal 
despotism, is a trite subject, not necessary here 
to be enlarged upon. Nevertheless, it may just 
be observed, that the Tsabian worship of the 



174 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Asiatic nations was far more in harmony with 
the proper impulses of the human mind, and did 
much less violence to the moral constitution of 
man, than the atheism which, in modern times, 
has taken its place. And if, in remote ages, the 
worshippers of the true God were in great peril 
from the bewitching error which then led captive 
the mass of mankind, and laid them prostrate at 
the feet of idols ; there is now not a less danger 
(a danger suited to the spirit of our times) re- 
sulting from the impiety of our astronomical 
and physical sciences. This impiety assumes 
two distinct forms, the one bold, the other 
modest ; to both of which a moment's attention 
is due. 

Bacon, who originated our modern philosophy, 
and Newton, who established its authenticity — 
the two minds that, more than any others, have 
ruled the world of mind, and ruled it by a just 
title, both of them believed that they saw the 
proof of Supreme Intelligence in the construc- 
tion of the material universe. But it is other- 
wise with their successors, who have learned 
to look upon these masters of knowledge with 
contempt, as having, in childish docility, espoused 
the vulgar belief of the existence of a Creator. 
Posterity will give its verdict in this disagreement 
between our earlier and later philosophers ; and 
will decide on which part the folly actually lies. 
Meanwhile we have to make an observation, 
pertinent to our immediate subject, upon this 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 175 

fact of the very prevalent atheism of our modern 
professors of natural philosophy. 

It has been thought by some persons, and ac- 
knowledged with uneasiness (we think a ground- 
less uneasiness) that the mere fact that atheism 
is avowed by men of high intelligence, virtually 
nullifies, or at least brings under a cloud, the 
alleged demonstrative force of the two lines of 
argument — a priori and a posteriori, in proof of 
the being of a God. For, as it is said, if these 
lines of reasoning were indeed conclusive, and if 
in the rejection of them there were contained a 
conspicuous absurdity, they must of necessity 
preclude dissent ; at least among well-informed 
and intelligent men. But this difficulty will not 
prove to be substantial. To remove it, we need 
not insist upon the very fair answer which might 
be given to it, by saying, that no process of 
reasoning of which language is the medium (in 
fact none but that which is mathematical) can 
exert this peremptory power of excluding con- 
troversy ; because the signs employed, being 
ambiguous, may always be evaded by sophistry. 
But instead of urging this reply to the objection, 
though valid and sufficient, we shall look some- 
what more closely to the nature of the case, and 
in doing so, shall find that the facts resolve 
themselves into an instance, not uncommon, of 
mental illusion ; and that no real enfeebling of 
the foundations of religion is implied in the 
atheism of scientific men. 



176 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Those will most readily follow our elucidation 
of this matter, who themselves are conversant 
with mathematical or physical studies. We 
have just above* (though for a different pur- 
pose) adverted to that insensible process which 
takes place during the course of philosophical 
generalizations, and in consequence of which 
universal laws gain ascendency in the mind, and 
at length stand out conspicuously in front of the 
mass of particular instances whence they have 
sprung ; so that, ultimately, they assume to 
themselves a sort of positive existence, almost 
a personal reality, and come to be thought of as 
something distinct from the individuality and 
passiveness of matter. Especially in the regions 
of the higher mathematics, certain abstruse prin- 
ciples and relations, by the simplifications that 
result from them, by the facilities which, when 
once mastered, they afford ; and especially, by 
the revelations they dimly make of boundless 
fields of investigation — worlds of unexplored 
mystery, quicken the imagination which, with- 
out asking leave of reason, invests them in 
shadowy majesty, and, by a prosopopoeia, grants 
to them something like the graces and dignity 
of so many divinities. 

The now well-ascertained correspondence be- 
tween the laws of motion and gravitation, and 
the abstract truths of mathematical science seems 
to impart to the latter, especially after they have 

* Page 134. 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 177 

possessed themselves of the understanding, a 
sort of domination, or active efficiency. And 
from this illusion the mind unconsciously slides 
into the farther error, which it never distinctly 
examines, of attributing to these universal and 
eternal truths the prerogatives of Intelligence. 
The two notions of intelligence and power 
become closely associated with certain abstruse 
mathematical principles, and these principles, in 
presenting themselves again and again as the 
ruling causes of all that is taking place in the 
universe, supplant the higher truth of a First 
Cause, and reconcile the mind (from other mo- 
tives easily persuaded) to the most enormous of 
all absurdities— the denial of that truth. 

But it is especially to be noted that this per- 
version of right reason, how great soever it may 
be, does not imply that there is no irresistible 
and invariable impulse in the human mind, 
obliging it always to look up from effects to 
causes, and leading it from the contemplation of 
the universe, to the belief, yes, the persuasion of 
a First Cause and Intelligent Creator. On the 
contrary, this primary instinct of reason is as 
truly at work in the bosom of the philosophical 
atheist, as in that of the theologian. But, like 
every other instinct, it is liable to misdirection, 
or perverted action. The atheist, let him boast 
as he may, though an impious, is not a godless 
man (no one can be such) ; but the deity — the 
invisible and potent intelligence that floats before 

N 



178 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



him, and which he unnaturally worships, is the 
system of abstract truth he seems to see sitting 
mistress of all worlds. Meanwhile the various 
and highly embellished superstructure of the ma- 
terial world, and its multiform provisions — speak- 
ing as much of moral intention, as of wisdom, and 
which can be traced to no other cause than Intel- 
ligent Beneficence, do not occupy the attention 
of this mathematical reasoner; they are, in his 
apprehension, only trivial and vulgar adjuncts of 
the great system of things ; they belong not to his 
department ; and he finds no difficulty in rebut- 
ting the evidence they afford of a truth to which 
his own studies do not compel him to assent. 

But there is, we have said, a mild and modest 
form, as well as this bolder one, of that impiety 
which takes its rise from the circle of our mo- 
dern astronomy ; and it may be thus described. 
It admits freely the Divine Existence, and the 
attributes of wisdom, power, and benevolence ; 
but in musing upon the vastness of the material 
system, in calculating the incalculable numbers 
of visible worlds, in adding to those the higher 
numbers which probably lie quite beyond our 
prospect; in thus conversing with infinity, and 
in surcharging the mind with the greatness of 
nature, man and his destinies disappear, or 
seem to hide themselves under a veil of utter 
insignificance. " If," says the sentimentalist, 
" if when our eyes are confined to earth, and if, 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 179 



" when the pomp of human power and the pride 
" of human knowledge are full in our view, man 
" shews himself to be great, and asserts an im- 
" measurable superiority over the inferior tribes, 
" this exaggerated impression is utterly dispelled 
" when we turn our gaze upward, and bring, as 
" we ought, into our estimate, the real magni- 
" tude of the system in which we are moving. 
" It is then that we are taught to think soberly 
" of ourselves : it is then that the apparent 
" distance between man — insect as he is, and 
" the insects he proudly tramples on, sinks into 
" nothing ; and we are compelled to confess that 
(C no folly can be so enormous as that which 
" attaches any high degree of importance to a 
" being that might, with all his millions, be 
" blotted from creation without more loss or 
" notice than is occasioned by the crushing of a 
" moth. If things be so, how preposterous must 
" we deem any religious dogmas which place man 
" in immediate correspondence with the Creator, 
" and imply that the Sovereign Power actually 
" occupies himself with the individual welfare of 
" men ; or that they are destined to act a part 
" that shall make them conspicuous among high 
" and intelligent orders ! What is man," says a 
reasoner of this class, " what is man, when 
" viewed in his just proportions on the scale of 
" the universe ?" 

This mode of thinking is natural, and the pre- 
judice whence it springs is hard to be entirely 

n 2 



180 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



dislodged from the mind ; but it is a prejudice ; 
and one which peculiarly infests spirits that are 
at once meditative, modest, and infirm. Never- 
theless its influence is of the most pernicious 
kind ; nor will religion of any sort (Christianity 
especially) adhere to the heart until the illusion 
be dissipated. 

On which side soever we turn, we find some 
direct confutation of this false modesty. It is 
quite evident that the whole (great as it may be) 
must at length be annihilated or made unimpor- 
tant, if we annihilate, or reduce to insignificance, 
one by one, its several constituent parts. And 
the very reason which would lead us thus to 
scorn one part, ought to have the same effect in 
relation to another, and another, until the whole 
is disposed of. The material universe consists 
throughout of separate portions, apparently simi- 
lar to that on which ourselves are placed ; nor is 
this our world, how diminutive soever in com- 
parison with the universe, immensely diminutive 
in comparison with other worlds. It is not as 
if, from our remote and petty globe or islet, we 
looked up to a central and immeasurable conti- 
nent of matter, wherewith we could place our- 
selves in no sort of comparison, and which we 
might suppose the abode of beings as much more 
excellent and important than ourselves, as that 
continent was more vast than this world on which 
we tread. On the contrary, the greatness of 
the universe is nothing else than the greatness of 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 181 

accumulation. The visible system is indeed im- 
measurably wide and deep ; and it is stocked 
with innumerable worlds : but (so far as science 
gives its evidence) the stupendous structure is 
reared throughout of the same material, and 
consists of parts which bear a relation of sym- 
metry, one to another. 

If, in imagination, we stretch the wing to 
distant quarters of the realm of nature, and if 
we take with us the sober expectations which 
philosophy authenticates, what shall we find — 
east or west, above or below, but suns and 
planets, much diversified, no doubt, in figure 
and constitution ; yet nothing more than solid 
spheres, of measurable diameter, and fraught, 
like our own, with organization and intelligence. 
Let us indulge as freely as we choose in prodi- 
gious conceptions of magnitude and splendour ; 
still we must (unless we discard all probability, 
and all actual appearances) keep within certain 
bounds. Suns are but suns, planets only pla- 
nets. This vastness of the universe, therefore, 
which, when thought of collectively overpowers 
the mind, reduces itself, when rationally ana- 
lyzed, to what we have already stated — namely, 
the greatness of accumulation. Who shall count 
the stars, or who number the worlds that are 
revolving around those centres of light ? No one 
attempts this arithmetic, any more than he sets 
about to reckon the sands of the shore; but the 
infinitude of grains makes not each grain either 



182 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



more or less important than it would be, if the 
number of the whole were much fewer than it is. 

And certainly, if our earth may retain its indi- 
vidual importance, notwithstanding the countless 
infinity of the worlds among which it moves ; 
it may do so notwithstanding its comparative 
diminutiveness. True, its disk is barely per- 
ceptible from planets which, by the breadth of 
their own, dazzle our sight. But no such rule 
of valuation can ever be assented to ; for it is 
favoured by no analogy. If the earth is to be 
deemed insignificant, merely because it is vastly 
less than Jupiter or Saturn, we ought to judge 
that Greece, Italy, and England, merit no atten- 
tion, in comparison with Africa and Asia ; and 
yet in fact it is these petty regions, not the con- 
tinents adjoining them, that have successively 
concentrated the intelligence of the world. 

But in looking more narrowly to this preju- 
dice, and in tracing it to its elements, it resolves 
itself altogether into a natural infirmity of our 
limited faculties. What then is this conception 
of vastness, and what is the emotion of sublimity 
that attends it, and with which we so much 
please ourselves ? It is nothing more, and it is 
nothing better, than the struggle or agony of the 
mind under the consciousness of its ignorance, 
and of its inability to grasp the object of its con- 
templation. Whatever far surpasses the reach 
of the intellectual powers, whatever can be 
conceived of only imperfectly, and vaguely, is 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 183 

thought of as stupendous, sublime, infinite ; and 
while we entertain the ever-swelling, but never 
perfected idea, an emotion that is partly plea- 
surable, and partly painful, inflates the bosom. 
Now the notion of insignificance, or diminutive- 
ness, though it may seem to be independent of 
any other, is in fact a correlative of the notion 
of magnitude ; and a mind that had no idea of 
greatness or sublimity, would never form one of 
meanness. But as the notion of vastness is 
directly the offspring of the limitation and feeble- 
ness of the human mind, its opposite — the notion 
of insignificance, has nothing in it of reality : 
it is an idolum tribus, or prejudice which, though 
common to mankind, is so in consequence of the 
poverty of the human faculties. 

But can we for a moment suppose that the 
Supreme Intelligence looks abroad upon his 
works in any such manner, as vast in the whole, 
and petty in the parts ? Does He know them 
as we do — a portion perfectly, and the rest 
vaguely ? Does He think of them, now with 
ease and familiarity ; and now with labour 
and difficulty? Does He see the universe in 
perspective, as from a central station? Is He 
moved, as we are, by the conception of the sub- 
lime ; or does He, as we, look down at single 
atoms of the material system, and call them 
minute, remote, or inconsiderable? Any such 
supposition as this were most egregious ; on 
the contrary, we may boldly affirm that, as the 



184 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Divine Knowledge is absolute, and extends itself 
equably and invariably, over the entire surface, 
and through all masses of the universe, so it 
utterly excludes the notion (proper to finite 
minds) of any part being insignificant and unim- 
portant, in consequence of its disproportion to 
the immensity of the whole. There is perhaps 
no instance more striking of the influence of 
those imbecile conceptions which infest the 
human mind, than this notion of the compara- 
tive insignificance of the earth and its inhabi- 
tants, because it is a mere point in the vastness 
of the heavens. The man of frigid and infirm 
temperament, who, with an affected or a puling 
modesty, after gazing upon the sky, turns and 
contemns his planet, and his species, and says — 
What is man, that he should think himself 
worthy to be noticed, or specially cared for, by 
the Creator ? may, on the soundest principles, 
be charged with making God altogether such a 
one as himself: the deity he conceives of is finite, 
not infinite. 

If we wanted sensible proof that this prejudice 
concerning comparative vastness and insignifi- 
cance, is not at all recognized on high, and 
enters not into the operative principles of the 
Creator, we should only have to look beneath 
us, adown the scale of magnitude. Does it ap- 
pear then as if the Divine power and intelligence 
could please itself, or deign to be occupied 
only with stupendous masses, and that it holds 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 185 

in contempt the minute ? Is it true, or does 
the microscope give this evidence, that nothing 
more than a rude or hurried finishing is 
bestowed upon diminutive beings ? Is there 
found, when we pass from the greater to the 
less, among organized bodies, a regular decrease 
of ingenuity, and of nicety of workmanship ? 
Every one knows that the contrary is the fact ; 
and every one must confess that this puny 
supposition of the comparative insignificance 
of the parts of the material system, is abun- 
dantly refuted by the tints and texture of every 
petal that drinks the dew, and by the wings 
and antennae of every gnat that hums in the 
evening air. 

Those who think they discern in the vast- 
ness of the material universe a reason which 
weighs against all religion, and which espe- 
cially excludes the belief of the facts affirmed 
in the Bible, surrender themselves, as we have 
seen, to one of the most unsubstantial of all 
the illusions that infest human nature : and as 
they neglect to observe what is the manifest 
law of the divine operations in the organized 
system — namely, an equable regard to parts, 
and to beings, whether small or great ; so do 
they overlook one of the first principles exhi- 
bited by the constitution of the sentient and 
intellectual orders, which is, that no faculties, 
either of knowledge, or of action, are bestowed 



1S6 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



upon any animal but such as have some direct 
bearing upon its own well-being; or at least 
upon its destiny in relation to other species of 
the animated world. When the objector has 
produced one unquestionable exception to this 
rule, he will be fairly entitled to maintain his 
enormous dogma — That the power and propen- 
sity of the human mind to contemplate the 
extent of the universe, and its habitude of 
referring all things to an Intelligent First 
Cause, and its constitutional dread of Invi- 
sible Power, and its inextinguishable sense of 
right and wrong, and its inherent forethought 
of an after-life, are all so many vague and 
inane instincts, which have no more intention, 
no more ulterior significance, than the chance 
forms and gigantic figures that are often 
assumed by the clouds, or seen upon a stained 
wall. Man, according to these philosophers, 
is no better than a monster, combining all 
sorts of powers and means of action ; but 
without any scope for their employment. He 
has wings, and all the muscular apparatus 
proper for flight; but his invincible destiny is 
to crawl upon the ground : he has the interior 
structure which might enable him to exist in 
two elements ; but he is actually confined to 
one. To look at his limbs, you would say he 
might outstrip the winds ; but watch him, and 
you find that he is passive and motionless 
as the oyster. This, in substance, is that 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 187 

natural history of man which the persons 
we speak of embrace, and which they deem 
philosophical. Just because the stature of the 
human species bears an incalculably small pro- 
portion to the distance between one star and 
another, they conclude that human nature is 
far too insignificant to allow of its assuming 
the importance assigned to it by Christianity! 
It is as nothing with these philosophers that 
man has mind enough to conceive of God, 
and is actually alive to powerful emotions of 
which the Supreme Being is the object : all 
this weighs not with them, and is entitled to 
no consideration ; or, at any rate, cannot com- 
pensate, in their view, the capital disadvantage 
of the diminutiveness of the human form ! If 
they could visit other regions of the universe, 
and discover some world, a thousand, or ten 
thousand times more bulky than this, and find 
upon it intelligent animals, proportionately 
gigantic, they would then at once grant you 
that creatures so tall, might properly challenge 
for themselves the right to be immortal and 
religious ; but not so the insect man ! This is 
the real meaning of the sentiment that so power- 
fully represses the piety of certain persons, who, 
while with the aid of modern astronomy they 
contemplate the vast magnitudes and distances of 
the heavenly bodies, exclaim — ' What is man 
that he should presume to think of God, or hope 
to be the object of his regard V 



188 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



If we reject, as we ought, all such false and 
illogical inferences from the vastness of the 
stellar system, we are left to seek an inference 
which reason can assent to as consonant with 
the known principles of the Divine operations. 
We have to ask — What is that sentiment which 
the human mind should imbibe when it stands 
upon its turret of observation, and looks this 
way and that, over the resplendent and illimit- 
able fields of space ? 

Boldly may we affirm that earth is not too 
small a globe to be thought worthy of giving 
birth to the heirs of immortality : nor is man 
too diminutive to hold converse with his Creator, 
or to be amenable to the Divine government. He 
does not therefore arrogate to himself too much 
importance when he speaks and acts as one who 
stands in immediate relationship to God. Never- 
theless there are principles which should impose 
upon him modesty and restraint in the range of 
his religious speculations. These are plainly 
such truths as — That the destinies of man must 
have some undiscerned bearing upon the welfare 
of the universe ; or are subjected to its general 
laws ; and that the universe, being so vast as it 
is, and governed unquestionably by rules which 
draw their reason not from a part of the system, 
but from the whole, they must always, and es- 
pecially in the present state, surpass the com- 
prehension of man. In other words it must be 
believed, that, in the fate and fortunes of the 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. \ 89 

human race, scope is given to the operation of 
laws which man must always fail to perceive the 
reason of, since they embrace, or have respect 
to the immeasurable realm of the Universal 
King. He alone whose thought grasps all 
worlds, and all orders of being, and all duration, 
can digest or comprehend the canons by which 
all must be governed. 

It may be well to pursue awhile in meditation 
these truths, and to rest upon them at leisure ; 
and it must be remembered that the inference 
we have in view will be equally valid, whether 
it be assumed as certain that the destinies of 
mankind are related to the universe, in the 
manner above stated ; or whether it be only 
granted as possible, or in some degree probable, 
that such a dependency exists. For it is one 
and the same thing in this instance to say — 
Such and such inexplicable facts have a relation 
to certain unknown principles ; or merely that 
they may, for aught we know, have some such 
relation. In either case the inference stands 
firm — that we should suspend our judgment of 
matters which, perhaps, are only to a small 
extent exposed to our view. 

On these premises let the immeasurable ex- 
tent of the material system be steadily contem- 
plated ; and though vague conceptions may 
generate emotions of sublimity, the solid fruits 
of thought will always best spring from the 
most distinct ideas; but these, on a field so 



190 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



arduous, are not to be obtained without some 
labour. 

That degree of power and facility in con- 
ceiving of distance which the mind acquires by 
its acquaintance with the surface of the earth, 
may, without any very extreme effort, or at least 
without such an effort as tortures and paralyses 
the mental faculty, be extended to the distances 
of the planets of our own system. Not indeed 
as if even the shortest of these distances could 
be held before the mind, in its component parts, 
or correctly reckoned ; for if compelled to divide 
a hundred millions of miles into such portions 
as we can distinctly think of separately, and 
then to add part to part, until all were num- 
bered — still retaining hold of our starting point, 
we should find ourselves utterly exhausted, and 
breathless, long before one of those millions had 
been completed. Nevertheless a mental traject 
from world to world may, in some sort, be 
accomplished. The glass brings, for example, 
the disk of Jupiter before us, so that we may 
fix the eye on this side, or the other, of his 
cloud-belted surface : we clearly distinguish the 
forms of those wreaths of lurid vapour ; or we 
catch the transit of one of his moons, and we fol- 
low the speck of shadow in its hasty course along 
the equator of the stupendous planet, very much 
in the same way in which we watch the shadow 
of a cloud, as it moves across the bosom of a 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 191 

distant sunny hill. Although the road thither 
baffles us in the attempt to mete it out into 
portions, we can just imagine ourselves to have 
achieved the passage, and to set foot upon 
that vast rotund ; and can faintly conceive of 
the scene that would there present itself> 
where, athwart prodigious valleys, each capa- 
cious enough to receive an Atlantic, or through 
which the waves of all our oceans might quietly 
flow, as the Ganges glides in its bed, the deep 
shadows of the over -hanging mountains are 
flitting with giddy haste, from side to side ; while 
the sun rushes through the ample skies to ac- 
complish his five hours of day. Or we remain 
at our post of observation through the brief 
moments of night, and are dizzy while we gaze 
upon the shining multitude of moons and stars, 
that, bursting up from the horizon, chase each 
other with visible celerity, from east to west, 
like a routed host, hotly followed by the foe. 

Thus, and with those aids which the telescope 
affords, or which the imagination, authentically 
informed by facts, supplies, may we make a 
stage outward through the skies : nor are such 
efforts of the mind to be accounted vain and 
fantastic, like those waking dreams wherein we 
combine extravagant images of things nowhere 
existing, and in themselves preposterous ; for we 
are now endeavouring to fix the faculty of con- 
ception upon objects that are palpable, and real, 
and which, remote as they may be, are as truly 



192 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



cognizable by the sight as are the cliffs of an 
adjacent continent. There is no extravagance 
in this attempt; but on the contrary a real 
utility, inasmuch as an important lesson is ob- 
tained from the vivid impression of the extent 
of God's visible dominion. 

The same effort of conception which has 
carried the mind to the orbit of Jupiter, will 
transport it to that of Saturn ; where is seen a 
sombre splendour, suffused on all sides, less, 
apparently, from the distant and diminished sun, 
than from the broad surfaces of the adjacent 
rings, which almost blend night and day, by 
overshadowing the one, and illuminating the 
other. Or taking once again an adventurous 
flight, further than before, we reach the outer- 
most limit of our system, and stand upon that 
vast and solitary planet which, as if guardian of 
the whole, slowly walks the round of the solar 
skies, while it fulfils its term of fourscore years 
and more. The sun has now shrunk almost to 
a comparison with the stars ; or looks only like 
the chiefest and most resplendent of them, so 
that the mild twilight of that noon does not 
quite exclude their rival radiance. 

Here indeed the power of distinctly conceiving 
of space and distance falters. But if we remain 
awhile at the remote stage we have reached, 
and pass along the circuit of that farthest planet 
of the solar system, we may gain, obscurely, an 
idea of the solitariness of our system in the 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 193 

starry heavens. It is possible that the diameter 
of that orbit, which is scarcely traversed within 
the longest term of human life, affords just a 
sensible parallax, for the measurement of the 
distances of the nearest stars, so that means 
are afforded for computing the breadth of the 
fearful gulf which divides the sun and his 
planets from the coasts of other systems. Thus, 
instead of the ignorance or uncertain conjec- 
tures which here on earth oblige us to rest 
satisfied (or dissatisfied) with a vague conception 
of the distance of system from system, there, 
in that Georgian planet, perhaps the astounding 
reality is reduced to figures, and it is authen- 
tically shewn that this outer circle of our system, 
vast as it is, circumscribes a space that would 
be not discernible otherwise than as a point, 
from even the nearest of the neighbouring stars ; 
so that though our sun would be seen thence, 
as those stars are seen by us, the apparent disk 
of its little sparkling light would include sun 
and planets together, as one blended radiance. 
It is thus, where facts are greater far than 
imagination, that in proportion as we ascertain 
those facts, or exchange imagination for know- 
ledge, the mind is so much the more filled with 
amazement or awe. 

From the extreme boundary of the solar 
system, could we gain that outpost of obser- 
vation, we should look with more distinctness 
of perception into the abyss, in the centre of 

o 



194 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



which the sun, with his planets, is suspended. 
And there, it is probable, a much brighter 
lustre may shed itself from the starry hea- 
vens ; and perhaps (yes it must be believed) 
innumerable stars, which from earth are not at 
all perceptible, or discerned only by the highest 
powers of art, are individually seen ; and those 
luminous streams too, and the many nebulous 
splendours which hang as wreaths or folded 
curtains of light, across our skies, shew them- 
selves to be — what they are — crowded hosts 
of worlds, thick and numberless as the sparks 
that rush up from a fiercely blown furnace. 
Perhaps, at the verge of our system, the hours 
of day seem dull and sombre, while the night 
flames out with a radiance that darts from 
every span and interstice of the sky, like the 
fretted roof of a palace, which the ostentation 
of the artist has overloaded with sparkling 
ornaments of gold. Nay, sober truth and cal- 
culation oblige us to believe that, if we could 
reach a spot nearer to the confines of the more 
densely occupied fields of space, and be exempt 
from all atmospheric obscurations, the entire 
surface of heaven would seem to be evenly and 
thickly studded with the stellar glory, in its 
many gradations of magnitude ; for though the 
nearer suns would appear distant, one from the 
other, the spaces between would be filled up 
by those more remote ; and these again by the 
still more distant, until nothing were discerned 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 195 

but a luminous ether ; — and yet this ether is 
luminous only by its innumerable suns ! 

After the mind has lost itself, and become fa- 
tigued by the labour of attempting to traverse the 
distances of the visible universe, it may turn, not 
for rest but for change, to the still more astound- 
ing conception of the numbers of the heavenly 
bodies. The telescope has put these numbers 
far beyond calculation ; and even then it fails to 
give account of the many luminous clusters that 
bedeck the sky, much less of the spaces on all 
sides that may be not less replete with creation, 
beyond the passage of light. And yet these 
numbers, could they be actually expressed, must 
be multiplied — who shall say how often, to in- 
clude those bodies, not natively luminous, that are 
circulating around each sun. Our own system, 
it is conjectured, may comprise many planets, 
either too diminutive, or, from the quality of 
their elements too obscure, to be discerned at all 
from the earth. The invisible material creation, 
therefore, it is probable, vastly outnumbers the 
visible; and it may justly be thought that the 
worlds made known to us by their inherent 
splendour, are, to the unseen, only in the pro- 
portion of the chiefs of an army to the thousands 
that fill rank and file. It is as if from the sum- 
mit of a tower we were looking, by night, upon 
a boundless plain, filled with the array of war, 
and could discern nothing but the gemmed crests 

o 2 



196 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



of the captains, gleaming amid the countless and 
unseen multitudes they are leading on. 

A metaphysical necessity compels us to deny 
absolute infinity to matter ; and for the saving 
of the first principles of theology, we affirm that 
creation has its limits. But who shall say when, 
and where, the abstract necessity begins to take 
effect ? A problem like this we must leave 
untouched ; meanwhile the whole evidence of 
sight, and of science too, tends to render it a 
probable supposition, that that sphere of the 
universe which the velocity of light brings within 
our knowledge is but a small portion of the 
whole, and that the verge of this visible sphere 
is the verge of another beyond it, or embracing 
it, and that again of another. Nothing, in such 
suppositions, let them be extended as they may, 
can be deemed incredible or extravagant, while 
the inconceivable truth stands always before us, 
of the distances and numbers of the worlds that 
are actually visible. The demonstrated wonders 
of astronomy deprive us of the right to affirm 
that any supposition concerning the greatness of 
the works of God is too vast to be admitted. 

What then is the just and unexceptionable 
sentiment which should come home to the heart 
after a contemplation of the inconceivable extent 
of the Creation ? Not, as we have said, this — 
That man and his welfare are unimportant. 
The very multiplicity of worlds, instead of 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 197 

favouring such a conclusion, refutes it, by shewing 
that the Creator prefers, as the field of his cares 
and beneficence, limited and separate portions 
of matter, rather than immense masses. It is 
manifest that the omnipotent Wisdom and Power 
loves to divide itself upon the individuality of 
its works. 

But if we must not indulge this feeling, the 
tendency of which is to quash every aspiring 
thought, and to reduce us from the rank we 
hold to the level of the brute, our alternative 
is another, which, without checking any noble 
emotion, at once imposes a restraint upon pre- 
sumption, and leads us to estimate more highly 
than otherwise we should, the consequences of 
our present course. Whether then it be posi- 
tively affirmed that man, in virtue of his moral 
constitution, stands related to all other parts of 
the moral system ; or it be only admitted as 
possible, that he is so related, it must equally be 
felt — That, to exist at all as a member of so vast 
an assemblage of beings, to occupy a footing in 
the universe, such as it is, involves incalculable 
probabilities of future good or ill. These pro- 
babilities will seem to deserve the more regard 
when we think of the visible universe as a mere 
ground-work for the support of the intellectual 
system. 

The material system, so far as it is open to 
our knowledge, does indeed surpass all power of 
conception : and yet this immensity is but the 



198 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



immensity of matter ; and we know by con- 
sciousness of an order of existence incomparably 
more excellent than matter, even in its most 
admirable combinations. Must we not believe, 
therefore, not only that this higher order of 
existence actually spreads itself over the entire 
surface of the material system, but that it is 
developing itself throughout, in some manner 
proportionate to its intrinsic superiority and 
dignity ? Is it not probable that events are 
moving on in the universe of mind, that fortunes 
are rising and falling, that destinies are bursting 
forth, blossoming and bearing fruit, which, when 
known, shall make the material frame-work of 
nature to appear, great as it is, nothing more 
than a stage for their accomplishment and dis- 
play ? 

Sober reason, in looking abroad upon space 
and matter, must surely assume it as true that 
this universe of solid and luminous globes does 
not stand for itself merely ; but rather that it is 
the inert means of a far higher end ; and more- 
over, that this end, or ultimate purpose, must 
transcend the means in every property that can 
excite admiration. Although we have ocular 
demonstration of that only which is material, we 
have rational demonstration of far more, and 
may well conjecture that, if the immaterial or 
intellectual universe, with its destinies, were laid 
open, the material would quite shrink and fade, 
and scarcely again claim our notice. 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 199 

We have only to add to this supposition the 
belief of the perpetuity of all intelligent orders, 
or of endless existence, in the most absolute 
sense of the words, as the attribute of rational life; 
and having placed in combination ideas so vast, 
it may be inquired whether the rules or princi- 
ples upon which a machine so stupendous as the 
material and intellectual universe, can be sup- 
posed to fall within our knowledge, or to lie 
in the compass of our minds ? In other words, 
whether our actual qualification for judging of 
the destinies of our own species, or of the pro- 
cedures of the Divine government, are to be 
thought in any degree commensurate with the 
magnitude of the subject ? 

Every reflecting mind is troubled at times 
with difficulties concerning the present and fu- 
ture condition of man, which all the ingenuity 
of philosophy fails to solve. To avoid the stress 
of such perplexities, on one side, we are fain to 
shift our ground; but find that, though we have 
changed the position of our burden, we have not 
at all lessened its weight. We run for relief 
perhaps, to scepticism, and some betake them- 
selves to atheism. But doubts, far greater and 
more formidable, meet us there, and forbid our 
progress. Revelation grapples not with any such 
antagonists ; but yet it speaks in a tone firm and 
calm, which implies that they are, or that they 
may be, readily disposed of. Now, if rightly 
minded, we need wish for nothing more (when 



200 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



once convinced that the Bible is from God) than 
to accept its implicit disregard of the doubts 
which so much disturb our peace. For we may 
very safely infer from the manifest ease and 
tranquillity of the messengers of Heaven that all 
is well, if looked upon from a point sufficiently 
high. Just as when a father, stationed on an 
eminence, is watching the progress of his sons 
through a labyrinth, they may confidently pre- 
sume that their course is the right one, so long- 
as they see that a cheerful smile is on his face. 

This humble and tacit acquiescence is, we 
say, both safe and reasonable. But let it be 
granted that it is lawful to seek some indepen- 
dent confirmations of our passive faith. Then 
surely we may find precisely what we need, as 
often as we look to the starry heavens. And is 
there not a conclusive motive of modesty, is 
there not a reason for suspending judgment, is 
there no awe justly to be derived from the 
spectacle of the universe ? Must not even the 
most audacious mind confess ignorance and 
admit reverence while standing in the open 
presence of all worlds ? Or let the scenery 
be somewhat changed, and instead of seeing, 
at a distance, these innumerable habitations of 
innumerable races, let us imagine that all the 
rational orders filling them, were by a sovereign 
summons gathered from their several homes, and 
brought down to our nearer skies, and included 
(were that conceivable) within a circle to which 



VASTNESS OF THE MATERIAL UNIVERSE. 201 

articulate sounds might reach. Who is there 
then, that in the actual presence and hear- 
ing of such an assembly, would find courage to 
utter aloud the petulance and the impiety of his 
secret meditations ? Who would not be conscious 
that those suspicions of the procedures of uni- 
versal government which he harbours while 
actually acquainted with only some few of its 
acts, must, if uttered, bring upon himself the 
resentment and scorn of all ? But it is plain 
that what we should not have courage to utter in 
presence of the assembled rational universe, is 
what we ought to expel from the concealed 
recesses of our hearts. For it must be absurd to 
think that, which we should ourselves feel it to 
be both presumptuous and absurd to utter aloud. 
The reason of the suspension of judgment and 
modesty demanded of us remains always the 
same ; and it is this — That we see ourselves to 
be members of a government which extends over 
a surface inconceivably greater than any finite 
mind can measure, and of which we are ac- 
quainted only with a single spot. 



XII. 

PIETY AND ENERGY. 

" ADD TO YOUR FAITH VIRTUE." 



Almost every excellence in the theory of 
morals has been attained by sages — except com- 
pleteness and consistency : the completeness and 
consistency of its morality is a praise peculiar to 
the ethics which the Bible has taught. Often, if 
we might so speak, have the strength and the 
materials of six parts of morality been brought 
together, wherewith to construct a seventh part; 
and so much of magnificence and elevation has, 
by this means, been obtained for the single 
virtue, whether it were fortitude, courage, 
patriotism, or beneficence, that mankind, in their 
admiration, have forgotten the cost at which it 
has been produced. 

The morality of the Bible excepted, there has 
never appeared an ethical system, oriental or 
western, which might not fairly be described as 
a splendid enormity, or a glittering fragment, 
which owed all its value to the spoliation of 
some spurned and forgotten qualities. Whatever 
of energy has been gained on the one part, will 



P1KTY AND ENERGY. 



203 



be found to have been deducted from another ; 
or if the man formed on these models is ex- 
amined, the eminence he displays in a single line 
of action, impoverishes or enfeebles other of his 
moral powers. 

Every one who is conversant with history will 
readily call to mind abundant illustrations of 
our meaning. The ancient world often enough 
displayed (and in some instances which justly 
demand admiration) a stern subjugation of the 
animal appetites, or an arrogant fortitude, or a 
proud public virtue, or an ambitious patriotism, 
or a bland and gay, but dissolute, humanity, and 
a voluptuous elegance. Or awhile after that 
Christianity had exploded the philosophic and 
polytheistic virtues, and had imparted the power 
and solemnity of the future life to ethics, man- 
kind were frequently called upon to admire a 
new order of extravagance in morals, while 
saints and anchorets, instead of heroes, sages, 
and statesmen, ran the course of glory. Mean- 
while the completeness and consistency of true 
virtue, as taught by the Apostles, was wholly 
lost sight of. 

Our own times, though it be on a new model, 
have shewn us notable examples of the brilliancy 
and vigour that may belong to partial systems of 
piety and morals ; and we have still need to 
revert to the source — the only source of a con- 
sistent morality. The absolute symmetry of 
the apostolic ethics, and its counterpoise of 



204 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



parts, is sometimes conspicuous, and sometimes 
occult. In one passage it insures the notice 
of even the least observant reader ; in others 
it demands, for its full exhibition, a reference to 
the deep-seated principles of human nature. 
But there are no instances more remarkable 
than those in which the admonitions of Scrip- 
ture are not to be understood in their specific 
propriety or ulterior intention, until we have 
looked through the page of church history, 
and have found occasions which seem to have 
been vividly in the prospect of the inspired 
writers when selecting their emphatic phrases. 
There are, we say, certain portions of the Scrip- 
tures, which, though ethical as to their subject, 
must be granted to have in them much of 
the prophetic quality, and to which we have 
not done justice until we have shewn, by the 
aid of history, their signal adaptation to the 
evils that, at different eras, have prevailed in 
the church. 

It must be acknowledged that the Gospel, 
while, by its direct agency, it has elevated and 
purified the morality of mankind, has also, as an 
oblique cause, generated, or brought into activity 
some peculiar forms of evil. This could not but 
happen. Christianity, corrupted and debased, 
has had its specific vices, as well as produced 
unexampled virtues. But what human sagacity 
could be sufficient, while the system was yet in 
its infancy, and long before it had collapsed upon 



PIETY AND ENERGY. 



205 



itself, or had come into contact with any foreign 
influences, to forecast these distant and acci- 
dental novelties of sentiment and behaviour? 
Truly the penetration of man reaches not nearly 
so far ; and when, on the pages of writers so 
inartificial, so devoid of the keenness and compre- 
hension of the philosophical spirit, as were Peter, 
James, and John, we find special provisions 
against abuses that were not developed at all till 
later ages, we must, in all candour, confess, that 
though the phrases and the style are those of 
men, the latent intention, and the foreknowledge, 
must have been from God. 

The epistles of Peter eminently exhibit that 
sort of ostensible consistency of moral precepts, 
which even the most ordinary understanding 
perceives and admires. This writer moreover 
shews himself to be master of that practical 
harmony of principles, which, on difficult occa- 
sions, and under peculiar excitements, adheres 
to the nice line of moderation, humility, and 
firmness. Of this kind are those passages espe- 
cially wherein he guides the conduct and feelings 
of Christians when suffering under persecution. 
Nothing more admirable than these precepts 
of meekness and constancy is anywhere to be 
found : — nothing so great had been seen in the 
world before Christ imparted to his disciples 
the elements of true magnanimity. 

But this is not all ; these epistles contain 



206 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



in their ethical portions some extraordinary 
instances of the kind just above alluded to, 
wherein a knowledge of the workings of human 
nature, much more profound than the writer 
would seem to be natively master of, is con- 
joined with what one is fain to think a pro- 
spective caution, directed against the unborn 
corruptions of after Christianity. The exordial 
paragraph of the second epistle affords a signal 
example of this, more than human, skill and 
foresight. We venture to affirm that the pas- 
sage is fraught, at once, with philosophical 
justness of classification, and with prophetic 
truth. 

It were surely a rude style of exposition to 
regard the catalogue of virtues, now before us, 
as merely a fortuitous series of moral qualities, 
each of which, though singly important, is not 
specifically linked to its neighbour, and does 
not derive any definite significance from its 
location in the list. So clumsy a supposition 
may perhaps be favoured by the looseness of 
our English translation ; but in turning to the 
language of the Apostle, far more of meaning 
is conveyed than such a supposition takes 
account of. 

In order to dismiss the frigid interpretation 
to which our ears have been accustomed, and 
to embrace the full sense of the apostolic lan- 
guage, it is necessary to resort to a paraphrase 
of the passage. " Divinely endowed," says the 



PIETY AND ENERGY. 



207 



Apostle, "with whatever is important to (spiri- 
tual) life and piety ; enriched also with those 
inestimable promises which insure to us a par- 
ticipation in the Divine Nature — a participation 
we derive from our acquaintance with Him who 
has challenged us to so high a glory ; and having, 
by the same means, gained freedom from the 
defilement of mundane passions ; take heed, my 
brethren, that you beseem yourselves worthily 
of your vocation ; using the utmost assiduity 
(in the pursuit of Christian excellence) see 
that your faith (in these promises) is always 
associated with manly energy (or vigour — that 
your faith be not pusillanimous) and then, that 
your courage (virtue) be duly informed by evan- 
gelical principles (knowledge). Again, take heed 
that your knowledge (of the Gospel) be not 
abused to licentiousness; but rather be conjoined 
with self-command and temperance. Nor must 
this control of the appetites spring from a 
haughty and fanatical temper, but must consist 
with humility and submission. Yet let your 
humility be religious (not stoical). Then re- 
member that your piety is not to be unsocial 
(or anchoretic) but fraught with brotherly affec- 
tion ; and lastly, that your affection towards 
your fellow-christians is not to be sectarian, but 
expansive, and that it is to spring from the 
principle of universal love."* 

* The precise value of the principal terms employed in this 
remarkable passage it is important to understand: our English 



208 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



This passage then, if not unfairly paraphrased, 
and if its ellipses are truly supplied, resolves 
itself into an ethical canon, in three parts, of 
which the first enjoins the due connexion of 
a religious reliance upon the Divine promises, 
with energy of character ; an energy that is 
not to be secular, but evangelical. The second 
describes genuine personal virtue, or continence, 
as related, on the one hand, to the principles 
whence it should spring, and on the other, to 

version is here less happy and exact than usual. 1i7rovdi)v 
Traaav Tvap£L(j£veyKavTEc, kiriyppriyhaa-E. These compounds 
fully carry the sense of bringing together, or into combina- 
tion and correspondence, the several virtues enumerated. It 
is not merely an adding one to the other, as unconnected 
items ; but the commixture of one ingredient with some other 
specifically necessary for the production of the desired result. 
The phraseology would be proper if the articles to be brought 
together were remedies, the effect of which depended upon 
their due combination. 'Ev rrj iriareL v^iibv ry)p aperriv. With 
this faith of yours, admix the constancy and courage of manly 
vigour : apsrij has this specific sense. 'H yvuxxic is neither 
human erudition, nor general intelligence ; but that specific 
knowledge of which the Gospel is the subject. 'Ey/cpa-aa is 
not moderation in eating and drinking merely ; but self- 
command, or command over the appetites. 'Y7rofiovt), as used 
by the writers of the New Testament, might be rendered by 
the word submissiveness : or it is the patience of humility. 
~Evcrifieia, piety. (biXaceXcbta is the species; dyairr] the genus. — 
This is the principle ; that, the special exercise of it: and the 
caution of the Apostle is directed against such an affection for 
the brotherhood as does not spring from a genuine and universal 
love. For the sense of the verb tTnyopriyiw, see verse 11. 



PIETY AND ENERGY. 



209 



the temper that should attend it. The third 
lays down the twofold rule of social piety. 

Or we might well seek our illustration of the 
apostolic injunction by taking a view, at large, 
of church history ; and then we shall find, 
beneath the significant phraseology of the pas- 
sage, a condensed but comprehensive caution 
against each of those prominent corruptions 
that have developed themselves in the course 
of eighteen centuries. They are readily enu- 
merated, and may be thus designated ; 1st, 
pusillanimous or inert faith ; 2d, the licentious 
abuse of the Gospel ; 3d, a fanatical or haughty 
subjugation of animal desires ; 4th, anchoretic 
pietism; and 5th, sectarian or factious sociality. 
Thus our apostolic canon is seen to hold up, 
as in a mirror, the history of the degenerate 
Christianity of all ages. 

We may take the members of this canon in 
their order ; and at present consider that which 
relates to the due combination of faith and 
manly energy. 

There is manifestly something which requires 
to be balanced or adjusted, and to be kept in 
equipoise, between the principle of faith, and 
the principle of action. The one has a ten- 
dency to exclude the other ; or to overpower it. 
But Christian excellence consists in the pre- 
servation of the balance ; and the preservation 
of it greatly depends, we must add, upon the 

p 



210 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



circumstances of the times. Now perhaps, for 
a season/faith and energy are conjointly and 
strongly stimulated ; and the highest style of 
Christian heroism is reached. After a while, 
the inducements of action being slackened, faith 
is deprived of the invigoration it had received 
from the contest with its antagonist principle: 
it triumphs, or rather seems to triumph, for a 
moment ; but presently becomes extravagant, 
then imbecile, and at length, utterly inert. 
We need not be surprised to find that Faith, 
though heaven-born, can neither live nor be 
productive alone. Excellence of all kinds, 
physical, intellectual, and spiritual, is the pro- 
duct, not of the single operation of some one 
principle ; but of the opposing forces of two or 
more powers, which have a natural fitness to 
counteract each other. And the higher we look 
in the scale of being and action, so much the 
more shall we find this principle holding good ; 
and shall perceive that resplendent qualities 
have become what they are, by the vehement 
interaction of conflicting elements. 

Thus it was that the faith of the primitive 
age owed its vigour, not merely to the miracu- 
lous attestations which then abounded ; nor to 
the personal teaching of apostles, the men who 
had themselves " seen the Lord ; " nor merely 
to the copiousness of the heavenly influence 
which at that time so largely descended upon 
the church; but in an equal degree to the perils 



PIETY AND ENERGY. 211 

and pains of the time, and to the agitations, and 
the heavy storms of trouble, which beat upon 
the infant religion. That vivid conviction of 
the reality of things unseen which the first 
Christians enjoyed, might naturally have ab- 
stracted them altogether from mundane inte- 
rests, and have led them forth, heavenward, 
in holy contempt of whatever belonged to the 
insignificance of their mortal course. But this 
supremacy of the powers of immortality, if un- 
balanced, must soon (if we are to calculate on 
the constant principles of human nature) have 
wrought its own decay and corruption ; and 
Christianity would quickly have seemed nothing 
better than a madness or a folly. The perse- 
cutions of the first age constituted the coun- 
teractive power, which gave consistency and 
reason to so lively a faith. Christians were 
daily brought upon a path of danger which 
made them as much men of action, of promp- 
titude, and of courage, as they were men of 
meditation. While more than any others they 
lived in correspondence with things " unseen 
and eternal," more than any others also, they 
wrestled with things earthly ; being embarrassed 
amid common cares, exhausted by hunger, 
thirst, and toil, distracted by fears, and often 
actually engaged in encountering the anguish 
of cruel deaths. Thus were they compelled, 
by the very position they occupied, to " mingle 
with their faith, virtue." 

p 2 



212 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



It might be matter of question whether the 
laws of the human mind at all admit of a high 
degree of force being imparted to the principle 
of faith (consistently with the soundness and 
vigour of the character) in any manner essen- 
tially different from that of a strenuous conflict, 
such as the first Christians were exposed to. 
We may perhaps hereafter entertain a conjec- 
ture on this subject; meanwhile it must be 
confessed, that the history of the church ex- 
hibits frequent examples of the natural process 
which takes place when Faith, being released 
from the counteractive influence of dangers 
and labours, becomes, first preposterous, then 
childish ; and ere long expires in the arms, 
either of superstition or of sensuality. 

Secular men can poorly, if at all conceive of 
the great power of those motives that are drawn 
from the objects of religious belief. As the 
most amazing of all infatuations is that which 
blinds man to his own immortality ; so the 
greatest of all revulsions is that which takes 
place when this infatuation is dispelled. Can it 
be called any thing less than "a new birth" when 
the being who yesterday was the creature of 
momentary interests only, becomes to-day the 
expectant of endless existence, the inheritor 
of absolute happiness, and an associate of the 
Infinite Majesty? The mere power of medi- 
tation, apart from piety, may indeed, on the 



PIETY AND ENERGY. 



213 



boundless field of hopes such as these, take its 
course at large. But the faith of Christianity 
is something far more vivacious than any mere 
ravishment of the imagination. For it is not 
so much the idea of eternity that constitutes 
the difference between the secular and the 
spiritual man : but rather the consciousness 
and the sensitiveness that are proper to the 
moral life, as related to endless existence. It 
is not merely a vivid conception of the awful 
greatness of God that makes the Christian what 
he is ; but rather the apprehension (an appre- 
hension that has alliance with the imagination) 
of the absolute purity, justice, and goodness 
of the Divine Being. It is the entrance of these 
notions that quickens the soul ; it is in their 
vividness that the health of the soul consists ; 
and the faith of Christianity, far from revelling 
in gorgeous conceptions of heavenly splendour 
and immortal pleasure, is a sense of Good and 
Evil, and of personal implication in the one, 
and participation of the other. 

Nor does this faith want definite excitements ; 
it is neither a mere vision of future glory, nor 
an ebullition of vague feelings. The mysteries 
of the redemption effected by the Son of God 
concentrate the emotions of fear and hope, of 
compunction and gratitude, of joy and sorrow, 
upon a distinct object. The " Mediator between 
God and man," his personal qualities, his acts, 
his purposes, his affection to his people, and the 



214 



SATURDAY EVENING, 



future exertion of his power in their behalf, are 
so many special sources of emotion, and combine 
to render Faith in the Gospel a congeries of senti- 
ments, deep and various enough to occupy every 
faculty of the intellectual and moral nature. 

Yet this is not all ; for the elementary prin- 
ciple of Faith receives enrichment, or a diver- 
sity of colour, and an individual form, from its 
combination with the peculiarities of the mind 
wherein it lodges. Shall we say, that as, when 
the pure splendour of the sun falls upon the 
prism of crystal, it undergoes decomposition, 
and while losing a portion of its intensity, yet 
throws off its severed elements of beauty — its 
seven colours, that diversify all the face of 
nature ; so, when the brightness of the Divine 
glory, and the unsullied beams of eternal life, 
come in upon the soul, and are imbibed by it, 
the finite substance, with its limitations of 
faculty, its personal figure, its individual con- 
stitution, imparts diversity to the celestial ele- 
ment, and gives birth to new and special forms 
of emotion. It is at least certain that the faith 
of each Christian is a faith specifically his own, 
and takes up, as adjunctive qualities, whatever is 
peculiar to the personal character, and whatever 
has sprung from its particular history. Thus at 
once from its objects, and from its subject, does 
Faith derive a richness that serves to occupy and 
animate the soul. 

Nevertheless it is a truth confirmed by all 



PIETY AND ENERGY. 



experience, that the human mind cannot with 
safety surrender itself to the constant domination 
of any one class of emotions, even of the calmest 
and the purest kind. The perpetuity of a single 
emotion is insanity — whether mild or turbulent, 
melancholic or impetuous ; and it may safely be 
affirmed that human nature must be dissolved to 
its elements, and reconstructed on a different 
model, before it can either suffer the wretched- 
ness of incessant passion, or enter upon the bliss 
of perpetual love and joy. The Divine providence 
speaks this truth aloud by the ordinary course of 
its dispensations ; and indeed by the entire con- 
struction of the social system ; an hour only is 
indulged to contemplation ; the day is demanded 
by care and toil. 

There are two notable and ordinary results of 
that state of things which prevails in tranquil 
times, when Faith, deprived of the invigorating 
influence of a strenuous conflict with antagonist 
forces, takes its residence indolently in the heart 
of the Christian. The first, is its transmutation 
into pusillanimous sentiment. The second, is 
its gradual expulsion by principles of secular 
action. A period like that in which we live 
naturally abounds with instances of both kinds ; 
and a brief consideration of both may well occupy 
a few moments. 

The unsearchable — the incomprehensible skill 
of the Divine administration of human affairs is 



216 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



shewn in the exact adaptation of the powers and 
movements that constitute the permanent con- 
stitution of nature (material and intellectual) to 
the accomplishment of the various purposes of 
the moral and spiritual system ; so that the 
evolutions of the higher economy of God's go- 
vernment coincide most precisely with those of 
the lower economy of the natural world. It 
is not that there are several systems of move- 
ment — physical, intellectual, and moral, which 
perpetually jostle each other, or which clash 
whenever they come in contact, and move on 
only by the one vanquishing the other. But, on 
the contrary, each of these economies takes its 
uninterrupted course, as if there were no other 
at work within the same space ; and each finds 
the means of attaining its ends, without offering 
the smallest disturbance to the other. All things 
are physical (using the term in its most extensive 
meaning) and all things are spiritual, in a sense 
not less absolute. 

A due understanding of this exact coincidence 
of the several circles of the Divine agency is of 
no small importance; and to a misunderstanding 
of it we may trace many of the errors and per- 
plexities that infest the region of religious senti- 
ment. Now in times of action and peril, the 
daily experience of the Christian effectively 
teaches him (far more effectively than can be 
done by abstract explanations) that the Divine 
providence, and the spiritual economy, which 



PIETY AND ENERGY. 



217 



are the objects of his faith, do not in any wise 
interfere with the ordinary or physical course of 
events : in other words, that the latter is not 
broken in upon, or disturbed (miraculous in- 
stances excepted) by the former. With this 
evidence of experience constantly pressed upon 
him, his faith ascends into its proper sphere ; 
while he confidently reposes upon the Divine 
declaration, " that all things shall work together 
for good to those who love God." 

It is possible and probable, that many per- 
plexities may harass the Christian in moments of 
reflection, while he vainly endeavours to recon- 
cile the combined movements of the natural and 
spiritual system, between which he feels himself 
to be placed. But although these difficulties 
may not be solved by meditation, they are ere 
long dispelled by the presence of danger, or by 
the pressure of suffering ; he is brought back to 
the energy and consistency of common sense, 
and manly courage, by perils that must be 
warded off, or by pains that must be endured. 
Meanwhile the powers of prayer and faith, and 
all the emotions that belong to a healthy piety, 
are brought into action ; and abstruse difficulties 
are forgotten. 

But it is likely to be otherwise in the case 
of one who, from the commencement to the 
close of his course, steers his bark upon the 
bosom of a tranquil sea. No sea indeed, 
ploughed by the keel of mortality, is exempt 



218 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



from winds and billows. Yet it is a truth that the 
ordinary cares and sorrows of life, though they 
may oppress the heart, and fill the eyes with 
tears, do not, in many instances, so quicken the 
energies of the soul as to break up its illusions. 
Just as one who slumbers may be annoyed by 
sounds and movements near him, and may turn 
uneasily from side to side ; and often seem as if 
about to start from his couch ; and yet he is not 
actually awakened. The human mind is prone 
to rest within the circle of a single order of 
sentiments : the soul loves its home of familiar 
emotions, and will endure a thousand inconveni- 
ences rather than consent to be dislodged and 
driven to seek new quarters. It is thus that, 
when religious feelings have gained supremacy 
in the mind, and have come to hold the first 
place in the heart, the circumstances of an 
ordinary lot fail to exert any effective antagonist 
influence, such as shall impart to these emotions 
a necessary degree of vigour. The man of faith, 
sincere and devout as he is, has become blindly 
attentive to the movements and principles of 
that spiritual economy within which all his dearest 
hopes circulate : this one order of ideas rules 
his mind. Meantime he is but confusedly con- 
scious of those vulgar realities of the physical 
economy, in the midst of which he stands. He 
can think of its turns and changes only as 
anomalies, that perplex the spiritual world : its 
just demands he resents as importunities : the 



PIETY AND ENERGY. 



219 



irresistible operation of its laws amazes him, as 
often as he finds himself borne onward by their 
power : he thinks of the world as his enemy, 
not so much by its corruptions, as by its very 
constitution ; and in imbecile alarm, he betakes 
himself to the Divine succour on occasions when 
nothing is actually to be feared but some just 
consequence of his own cowardice or indolence. 

It is manifest that one who in any degree 
believes, or who even surmises, that the laws of 
nature — the very constitutions of the Creator, 
are so many instances of sedition and anarchy, 
is altogether unfitted for acting his part well in 
conformity with these laws : every occasion of 
life, wherein mere habit, or the force of custom 
and example does not bear him passively onward 
in the track of common sense, must find him 
embarrassed, inconstant, pusillanimous ; and he 
fails, and forfeits reputation, from mere incer- 
titude or irresolution, though his principles are 
firm as those of a martyr. These principles are 
hidden ; his behaviour only is seen ; and it is 
no wonder that he is looked upon in contempt 
by men of the world, who, understanding nothing 
of the natural history of the case before them, 
draw an inference which confirms them im- 
movably in their irreligion. 

This transmutation of religious faith into 
pusillanimous sentiment, supposes always some 
degree of natural feebleness of understanding ; 
and we have next to consider that other sort of 



220 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



transmutation which takes place (especially in 
tranquil times) with those whose intellectual 
faculties are vigorous. 

Men of energy and intelligence, sincere in 
their religious convictions, at least at the com- 
mencement of their course, who are pressing 
forward on the busy and gainful paths of public 
life, soon become far too well acquainted with 
the principles and machinery of the natural 
world, and, by their success in adapting them- 
selves to its laws, are too well content with its 
constitutions to entertain the mystical belief of 
the religionist, as above described, who can re- 
concile himself to nothing but what is spiritual; 
and who thinks nature an invasion upon the 
economy of grace. These, on the contrary, fully 
persuaded as they are of the reality, the per- 
manence, and the invariable regularity of the 
natural world, and yet reluctant to throw up 
entirely the dogmas of their religious belief, take 
up a saving hypothesis, and look upon whatever 
seems peculiarly to belong to the spiritual system, 
as an anomaly, or special interposition, brought 
in on rare occasions, when nothing less than an 
almost miracle could serve the purposes of the 
Divine administration. Nevertheless, from their 
own conduct and motives they rigidly exclude 
whatever is not purely secular. 

But when religion has once yielded the supre- 
macy which is its right, it quickly fades into a 



PIETY AND ENERGY. 



211 



thin shadow, and a name. These men therefore, 
of secular habits, and meagre religious belief, 
insensibly surrender, point after point of their 
first convictions, until they become in all re- 
spects like others ; — except the disadvantage of a 
profession which serves only to overcloud their 
hours of reflection, and to sully their public 
conduct. Yet it is such, in an age like our own, 
that extend the front, and give splendour to the 
array of visible Christianity. May it not be 
conjectured that, at the present moment, where 
we shall find one man who is both sound-minded 
and truly spiritual, we shall meet with three 
pusillanimous religionists, and twenty secular 
believers ? 

It may now be curious, and perhaps profit- 
able, to imagine such a course of events as 
might restore energy to faith : this subject we 
shall next pursue. 



XIII. 



THE LAST CONFLICT OF GREAT 
PRINCIPLES. 

" THE SON OF MAN, WHEN HE COMETH, SHALL HE FIND 

FAITH ON THE EARTH?" 



The general expectation of Christians at the 
present moment, supported by no trivial evidence, 
is, that a wide diffusion and visible triumph of 
the Gospel draws on apace ; and that now, 
without any new or remarkable pause, truth and 
piety shall advance, and shall receive the homage 
of larger and larger portions of mankind, until 
" all the earth is filled with the knowledge of the 
Lord." 

This, we say, is the common belief of the 
church ; and reasons, many and cogent, may be 
adduced that give strength to so cheering a 
hope. Nevertheless a contrary opinion may be 
entertained ; at any rate some advantage may 
be drawn from following, for a moment, as 
matter of hypothesis and meditation, such a 
supposition. We do so therefore, yet without 
giving suffrage to the opinion, as if it were 
more probable than its opposite. But in fact 
it is only by a calm attention to both sides of a 



LAST CONFLICT OF GREAT PRINCIPLES. 223 

doubtful alternative, that we can be thoroughly 
prepared to rest securely in the one we after all 
prefer. 

A rise and fall, or alternation, of antagonist 
forces takes place in all human affairs. History 
is the narrative of the prevalence, by turns, of 
the several counteractive powers that sway the 
world; and ordinarily it happens that, at the 
very moment when a certain power reaches the 
acme of its supremacy, and when, as with a 
flourish of trumpets, it proclaims its undisputed 
triumph, it does, in that blast of pride, announce 
the re-appearance of its rival. Despotisms, civil 
and religious, and all the foul forms of political 
and ecclesiastical corruption, have, on many signal 
occasions, thus boasted and thus fallen in one 
and the same day. And it must be granted as 
possible (holding other considerations for a while 
in abeyance) that the contest now actually 
taking place on the stage of European affairs, 
between the principle of religious belief (a belief 
which, owing to the circumstances of the times, 
is too little energetic) and the secular or atheis- 
tical spirit, a spirit of vigour, intelligence, con- 
tumacy, and levity ; may go on to the advantage 
of the latter, until its languishing opponent lies 
in the dust, or is driven into the wilderness. If 
a better issue may reasonably be hoped for, this, 
sad as it is, seems to accord naturally enough 
with the course of recent events. 

It is not that argumentative, or documentary 



224 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



proof, which reposes on the shelves of our libra- 
ries (how good soever it may be) that will ever ef- 
fectively maintain the ground of Religion against 
its adversaries. The Author of Christianity has 
indeed consigned his doctrine to paper ; but the 
defence and propagation of it is committed, age 
after age, to living depositaries. Celestial truth 
is a jewel in a pix ; but unless it be worn by its 
possessor, it might as well have rested in its 
quarry. There is a written, and there is a Living 
Testimony, addressed by Heaven to men. But 
the former becomes only a passive organ of 
transmission, whenever the latter fails in energy 
and purity. Yet, if the power of religion decays, 
the power of irreligion does not at the same 
moment decline ; but, on the contrary, starts 
up then into tenfold activity. 

If therefore, at any time, the question be 
asked — Is Christianity about to advance, or to 
recede ? the answer must turn (so far as human 
probabilities are implied) upon the relative vigour, 
at that moment, of the Living Testimony, and 
of the spirit of impiety and atheism. If, for 
example, at any season, while unbelief and irre- 
ligion are oft their guard, after a long period of 
undisturbed empire, the spirit of Religion be 
gathering to itself inward strength, be rising and 
mantling in dignity and purity of sentiment, be 
more sincere and fervent, and more deeply 
moved, and seem to be mustering force for 
some achievement greater than itself distinctly 



LAST CONFLICT OF CHEAT PRINCIPLES. 225 

foresees ; then may an expansion of truth be 
looked for, and an overthrow of the powers of 
evil. Such was the relative position of the anta- 
gonists in the first age of Christianity; and such 
again at the bursting forth of the Reformation. 

On the contrary, if, at any period the secular 
spirit be peculiarly rife with intelligence and 
power; and at the same time the Living Tes- 
timony seem to have spent its force ; if, with 
the faith of Christians, there be combined little 
of virtue, or manly vigour and constancy; and if, 
moreover, the Witnesses for God be factiously 
divided, brother against brother, then nothing 
less than some extraordinary interposition from 
on High will prevent the stronger power from 
trampling on the weaker. This stands certain 
without argument. 

We do not here either affirm or deny such to 
be now the relative position of Christianity in 
Europe ; but we go on with our hypothetical 
meditation, and imagine a triumph of impiety — • 
a triumph which, even should it actually be in 
the womb of time, shall endure only for an hour; 
and it shall be the " Last Hour" of darkness. 

The covert scepticism of the eighteenth cen- 
tury, has become open atheism in the nineteenth. 
It may be hard to determine whether this ripen- 
ing of Evil should be regarded as a favourable 
omen or not ; but on the supposition of the con- 
temporaneous decline of religion, it is peculiarly 

Q 



226 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



significant ; for we can be at no loss in imagining 
the scene, when this bolder impiety shall believe 
itself, at length, free from all constraint and fear. 
The spread of unbelief, after so signal a restora- 
tion of Christianity as we have seen take place in 
our day, may indeed appear highly improbable. 
But in truth, if the problem be looked at atten- 
tively, we shall be compelled to grant, that the 
future increase of infidelity, to any extent, is not 
a whit more difficult to suppose than its existence 
at all is hard to account for, in an age like our 
own, when, as matter of argument, it has been 
beaten from all its positions ; and when, after 
the severest possible contest, Christianity has 
remained in possession of the whole of its evi- 
dence, and has received the benefit of having 
that evidence purged of dross, and freed from 
suspicion. On hypothetical grounds it might 
well have been supposed that the controversies 
of the last forty years, and the uniform triumphs 
of Christianity in every contest, must, by this 
time, have rendered infidelity the object of con- 
tempt among all well-informed men. If reason 
held sway in the world, nothing else could have 
taken place. But it is otherwise ; and if so, 
then the spread of that which, under such cir- 
cumstances, dares to shew its head, must not be 
deemed incredible, or indeed improbable ; for if 
it can live, it may grow. 

It is true that, for some time past, atheism 
has held its place in this, and other European 



LAST CONFLICT OF GREAT PRINCIPLES. 227 

countries, by its sinuosity, and its affected mo- 
desty, and its evasion of open warfare ; and by 
the malicious courteousness of the obeisance it 
offers to religion, as if she wished that her 
claims should be reverenced, but not examined. 
Meanwhile it industriously pursues speculations 
which, though in their apparent tendency they 
have no bearing upon the question of Christi- 
anity, are always brought to a conclusion that 
silently implies its nullity. By a similar crafti- 
ness, an invading or a rebel force, that has 
again and again been beaten on the fair and 
broad field of war, holds its existence, year after 
year, in the bosom of a distracted country. Well 
knowing its weakness in arms, and yet relying 
upon the aid of a disaffected and disloyal faction 
in the land, it disperses itself through every 
district, is no where to be seen in array, is no 
where to be encountered, and is not to be 
destroyed, because not to be met with in the 
field ; yet does it keep alive treason and anarchy 
through the realm. 

Shall we place our reliance upon those bul- 
warks of religion which the vigilance and muni- 
ficence of our ancestors reared for its defence, 
and which we venerate as conservative of all 
that is most precious ? Alas ! such artificial 
barriers may disappear more suddenly than the 
morning mist. Nothing is permanent, belong- 
ing to man, but his inconstancy. The weeks 
of one summer, the brief interval between the 

q2 



22S 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



springing of the blade, and the putting in of the 
sickle on our fields, may see pass away, as a 
forgotten dream, what we had believed to stand 
firm as a mountain. Nor are the means to 
which recent religious zeal has given existence 
much more to be trusted, than the venerable 
institutions of other times. Two powers only 
are entitled to be considered as grounds of confi- 
dent calculation, in forecasting future events : 
these are, on the one hand, the bad passions of 
man — his sensuality, his levity, his virulence, 
his ferocity; which infallibly, and alike in every 
age, and in every hour of every age, are in move- 
ment, and actually ready to break forth, and to 
rage, just so far as they are not repressed. And 
on the other hand, that strong arm of Divine 
and conservative Providence, which (governed 
by reasons inscrutable) now withdraws itself 
almost from the theatre of human affairs ; and 
now again, with irresistible force, interposes to 
rescue the ark of religion, and to renovate the 
corrupting mass of the human system. These 
two permanent antagonist powers excepted, no- 
thing that belongs to man is invariable ; and at 
all times, whatever of evil the first of them can 
produce, may justly be feared — short of that 
utter desolation which the second will assuredly 
prevent. 

It may most confidently be prognosticated 
that the atheism which now is bland, submis- 
sive, respectful, crafty, will become a creature 



LAST 



CONFLICT OF GREAT 



PRINCIPLES. 



229 



altogether of another temper,, should it ever 
reach the point of supremacy and of visible tri- 
umph. To all powers it belongs to change their 
external character, as well as their rate of move- 
ment, when they burst away from the grasp of 
an antagonist. So would it be with Christianity ; 
and so shall it be, when it gains the ascendant. 
Nor, on the other side would the spread of 
atheism be slow, if a decided advantage were 
once obtained over religion ; nor would its de- 
portment then be moderate. If there be an 
imprudence greater than that of placing reliance 
upon existing institutions for the preservation of 
religion, it is to believe that the suavity, the 
tolerance, the bland indifference, and the en- 
lightened liberality, which now are the garb of 
the infidel spirit, belong to it by nature, or would 
be retained a day after it had nothing more to 
fear from its rival. 

The whole history of man makes it certain, 
that sensuality, frivolity, and cupidity, the close 
companions always of atheism, connect them- 
selves with ferocity, as surely as superstition and 
fanaticism do so. If false religion has always 
been sanguinary; so likewise has lust; so has 
voluptuous levity ; so has covetousness : the alli- 
ance is deep-seated among the very roots of 
passion in the human heart. 

Shall we affirm that none but the priest is likely 
to become persecutor, and that the atheist has 
no fang ? Vain conceit ! The priest indeed has 



230 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



often cursed this or that rival sect, and desired to 
exterminate his foe ; but the atheist holds man- 
kind at large in contempt, and would be ready, 
with a jest, to blot out all life from the world. 
Besides ; as the atheist cannot expunge from 
human nature its latent instincts of religious fear 
and hope, these principles will be always at work 
to trouble his security, and therefore to provoke 
his resentment. Let but the day come when it 
shall be fearlessly and commonly professed that 
Death is annihilation, and that therefore the 
pleasures of appetite, graced by intelligence, are 
the whole portion of man, and this horrible opi- 
nion shall quickly become parent to a Giant 
Cruelty, loftier in stature, and more malign than 
any the earth has hitherto beheld. Even the 
most sanguinary superstitions have had some 
profession of sanctity and of mercy to maintain ; 
a reserve, a saving hypocrisy, a balance of senti- 
ments, which has set bounds to their demand of 
blood. But atheism is a simple element; it has 
no restraining motive, and must act like itself, 
with dreadful ingenuousness. And with what 
vehemence of spite shall this monster, should 
he ever win the sceptre of the world, turn, and 
search on all sides for the residue of those who, 
by their testimony in favour of the future life, 
sicken his gust of pleasure, and make pallid his 
joyous and florid health ! 

It were not well (as it is not needful) to 
imagine in particulars the ingenuities of brutal 



LAST CONFLICT OF GREAT PRINCIPLES. 231 

rage which, in such an era of triumphant im- 
piety as we are supposing, shall be brought into 
play by the chiefs of sensuality and atheism, for 
the purpose of breaking the constancy of the 
few who might still maintain the faith of religion. 
With what zeal shall it be attempted to purge 
the world, once and for ever, of the fear of God, 
and the belief of immortality! The ruling spirit 
of delusion, the invisible, but inveterate enemy of 
man, far better taught in the mysteries of the 
spiritual world than are his human agents and 
ministers, and not free from an appalling fore- 
scent of his own near approaching discomfiture, 
shall nevertheless be so flushed with success 
(though racked by inward despair) that he shall 
put in movement the entire force of his king- 
dom, to bear upon this last hour of conflict. If, 
when the obsolete and childish fables of the 
Greek and Roman worship were approaching 
their fates, the father of error breathed so much 
of infernal rage into the bosoms of Diocletian, 
and Galerius ; and if again, when the decayed 
follies of Popery were shaking to their fall, he 
inspired, with a still more intense ferocity, the 
hearts of the Austrian Charles, and of Philip, 
and of Henry, and of his daughter, and of her 
bishops, how much more shall he be furious, 
when it is not some single form of impiety that 
is in peril ; but when the comprehensive contro- 
versy — the question of all ages, between Sense 
and Faith, shall draw to a crisis ; and when it 



232 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



shall seem as if now a single convulsive effort 
might overthrow for ever the belief of immor- 
tality. 

No : — that is a triumph which shall never be 
boasted. Let atheism prevail as it may, some 
shall remain firm to the hope of life, and loyal 
to the honour of God. These shall indeed have 
been long forsaken by the multitudes that once 
made common cause with them. The congre- 
gation of Christ shall have thinned daily : the 
visionary religionist shall have gone out, hand 
in hand with the wrangler, and the leader of 
faction. The cloaked hypocrite, the plausible 
conformist, the sanctimonious, and the rigid, to- 
gether with the licentious, shall have walked 
away. Nor must we fail to mention the fattened 
depredator on the goods of the church, who, at 
the first alarm, at the first approach of afflic- 
tion, shall effect his escape, and very quickly 
shall be seen to have taken his place and a sop, 
as pensioner at the royal table of impiety. Yes, 
all shall have gone off but the few, whether 
learned or ignorant, great or mean, who here- 
tofore had truly held converse with Heaven, and 
whom Heaven will not forsake. Such shall be 
strengthened to maintain a good profession. In 
the day of trouble there shall be added, " to 
their faith virtue." Faith itself shall reach assur- 
ance of things unseen : every misgiving thought 
shall be scattered ; and while it shall seem as if 
God had indeed withdrawn himself from the 



LAST CONFLICT OF GREAT PRINCIPLES. 233 

earth, the persuasion of his presence shall be the 
most vivid. 

As it is true that, in a time of laxity and ease 
the disruption of Faith and Virtue is the prin- 
cipal occasion of leading men into infidelity, by 
teaching them to call in question, first their own 
religion, and then that of their neighbours ; so 
is it found that, in a time of affliction, the in- 
vigoration of Faith by Virtue directly operates 
to augment the number of believers. Thus may 
we suppose it to be again. Even when the 
victims are bound, and the fires are kindling, 
some, perhaps not a few, of those who had 
thoughtlessly followed in the train of impiety, 
shall be smitten to the heart, and shall loudly, 
though at the peril of life, profess themselves one 
with the faithful. The Living Testimony shall 
suddenly revive, and spread itself, and shall 
daunt the adversary. The Atheist Power shall 
quail, and confess his fears, or his incertitude : 
and perhaps, at that very moment, when the 
hostile parties are confronting each other in 
suspense — yes, in the depth of that hour of 
darkness, and " at midnight," a cry shall be 
heard — " Behold, the Bridegroom cometh ! " 



XIV. 



LICENTIOUS RELIGIONISM. 

U ADD TO VIRTUE KNOWLEDGE, AND TO KNOWLEDGE 
TEMPERANCE." 



To renounce all energy and consistency of 
conduct on the plea of Faith, is easy; and so 
is it easy to profess and practise secular virtue, 
in contempt of Faith. These two extremes have 
in all ages been of common occurrence. But 
Christianity requires (as it is condensely ex- 
pressed in the second member of our apostolic 
canon) that Virtue, or energy of character, should 
spring from evangelical principles ; and that these 
principles, moreover, should insure personal pu- 
rity, and the government of animal appetites. 

The extremes we have mentioned, between 
which the well-instructed Christian holds the 
mean, are correlatives, directly influencing each 
other. It is what they see of the laxity, the 
imbecility, the instability of many religionists, 
that indurates secular men in their impiety, 
and leads them, with an avowed contempt of 
religious principles, to rest the motives of their 



LICENTIOUS RELIGIONISM. 



235 



conduct upon the lower ground of expediency, 
and of utility, and honour, and a regard to 
reputation. On the other hand (as there is too 
much reason to fear) the lax religionist, seeing, 
as he does, that secular principles often produce 
a sort of consistency and virtue of which he 
knows himself to be destitute, and finding that 
his doctrine of faith has no efficiency of a similar 
kind, arrives tacitly at the conclusion that the 
honour, truth, integrity, candour, ingenuousness, 
and self-command, in which some worldly men 
excel, are nothing better than worldly virtues, 
or false semblances of goodness, with which " a 
spiritual man" should have little or nothing to do. 
Thus the secular man is made the more profane 
by his neighbourhood to the religionist ; and the 
religionist more relaxed, by his contact with the 
worldling. 

The virtue taught by the Apostles, and exem- 
plified also in every age by a good number of 
ingenuous followers of Christ, is incomparably 
more complete, and more sound, and more ani- 
mate,than that of the worldling; because it reaches 
to the deepest motives, flows out from the very 
centre of the soul, and derives its force always 
from reasons that are big with the powers of 
infinity. And then the consistent Christian, when 
compared, on the other side, with the mere 
religionist, has a great advantage, inasmuch as 
the first element of his spiritual existence is an 
unsophisticated perception of the evil of sin, and 



236 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



a sincere belief of the peril that thence accrues 
to himself; and because its second element is an 
equally unsophisticated and affectionate grati- 
tude to Him to whom he owes deliverance. His 
nice sense of honour, therefore, draws its acute- 
ness and its vivacity from a consciousness of the 
presence of One, whose eye penetrates the spirit, 
and whose displeasure is the greatest of evils. 

" Add to knowledge temperance ; " or, in 
other words, let evangelical principles operate to 
produce self-command, and the due government 
of animal appetites. The admonition, then, bears 
directly against that licentious abuse of the Gos- 
pel which, to some extent, has always accom- 
panied the proclamation of Divine mercy, and 
which it must be confessed has, in a peculiar 
degree, abounded in modern times. 

Those enormities of conduct which, from time 
to time, connect themselves with religious pro- 
fession, are not of any very extensive ill conse- 
quence to Christianity, unless they spring, by 
some mode of theological sophistry, from its 
capital doctrines. The flagrant vices and gross 
scandals that may break forth for a moment, and 
disappear, being rebuked, as by the acclamation 
of all men, inflict only a transient injury upon 
the cause of truth. It is otherwise when de- 
bauched principles and flagitious practices link 
themselves, by means of bad logic, with the 
abstruse points of religion, and gravely demand 



LICENTIOUS RELIGIONISM. 



237 



for themselves the respect that is properly paid 
to well-digested and well-defended systems. In 
such cases a disease, fatally virulent, touches 
the vital powers of Christianity, and bespeaks a 
general corruption, without which the malady 
could not have advanced so far. 

It is characteristic of evils of this order, that 
they are found to exist, first, in a state of sub- 
limation, or apparent purity ; and afterwards, 
by a very quick transition, in a state of gross 
deformity and putrescence. We say the one 
precedes the other ; but when produced they 
continue to be coeval ; and are always nearly 
associated. The false glory of the one, hovers 
over the foul corruption of the other, just as the 
decay of animal matter is indicated, during the 
blackness of night, by a phosphoric coruscation, 
than which nothing is seemingly more etherial 
or unsullied. But in the order of generation, 
we must say (reversing the apostolic phrase) 
" that which is first is spiritual ; afterward that 
which is natural." 

All the laws of nature must be changed before 
it could ever happen that things gross and cor- 
rupt should bring into existence things elevated 
and refined. The reverse is, as we have said, 
the order of the intellectual system. Principles 
that are recondite, subtile, unearthly, become the 
germinating causes of flagrant evils, that appal 
mankind, and that especially excite wonder on 
account of their parentage. It follows, if gross 



238 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



corruptions be the product of spiritual errors, 
that when the process of cure is in question, 
little good will be effected if, while we attack the 
offspring, we observe tenderness and reverence 
toward the parent. Any such method of pro- 
cedure must prove itself nugatory. 

To come to the instance before us, of the 
licentious abuse of evangelical principles. If 
the vulgar who, with so greedy a relish of what- 
ever is rank and fleshly, drink in corrupt doctrine, 
and actually avail themselves of the indulgence 
that flows from their creed, could be entirely 
deprived of the countenance and aid they receive 
from those of their leaders whose error is alto- 
gether of an intellectual kind, and whose conduct 
is better than their doctrine, they must almost 
instantly fall back from their standing within 
the pale of Christianity, and would very quickly 
merge, without distinction, in the general mass 
of irreligion. It is to the wily and perverse 
intelligence, to the ingenuity, the false sublimity, 
and the pathos, of a few divine sophists, that the 
licentious vulgar of the Christian polity owe 
their very existence, as professors of the Gospel. 
Could we but withdraw these leaders, we should 
at once dissolve the body, at the head of which 
they stand. 

Those thunders of commination which, not un- 
frequently, roll from orthodox pulpits over the 
quarters of licentious religionism, die away, for 
the most part, in fruitless echoes. The spiritual 



LICENTIOUS RELIGIONISM. 



239 



or intellectual heretic scorns such rebukes, as 
calumnious, at least in his own case, while, 
if listened to at all by the sensual crowd, they 
are either jeered at, as proof of ignorance in the 
mysteries of the Gospel ; or they operate directly 
to cherish and to flatter the capital delusion of 
which these persons are the victims. The vindi- 
cator of morality has already receded from his 
vantage ground, and has virtually surrendered 
the matter in dispute, when he opens the contro- 
versy with flagrant offenders against , virtue in a 
specific style, such as confesses their right to be 
treated in the character of religionists. By so 
doing he transfers what belongs immediately to 
common sense, to the hazy ground of polemics. 
Now the very core and secret of the delusion 
which envelops the licentious religionist, is this 
same habit of escaping from the sphere of com- 
mon sense, and conscience, into the mysticism 
of abstruse and absurd theology. Theology, with 
its abstractions, does but inflame evils of this 
order. What have the covetous, or the impure, 
or the unjust, or the cruel, to do with questions 
of theoretical religion — questions which divines 
themselves do not seem to comprehend, or are 
not able to adjust ? 

Nevertheless the immoral, to whatever class 
they may belong, are not to be abandoned to 
their error ; but must, by all means, be entreated, 
and if possible reclaimed. Some kind of illusion 
attends always the indulgence of vicious desires ; 



240 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



and whatever may be the peculiarity of that 
illusion, or its strength, it ought never to be 
deemed indissoluble. The debauched religionist, 
how deeply soever infatuated, has not, we may 
be assured, actually severed himself from the 
conditions of his moral nature. Heir of a future 
life, and the subject of Divine government, he 
might as easily lay down his immortality, or 
evade, at the last, the search of the ministers of 
Divine -justice, as now quench that light of con- 
science which is the "candle of the Lord" in the 
bosom of man. Man may indeed render himself 
brutish ; but it is in vain that he seeks to take 
the rank and destiny of the brute. 

We have said that it is the spiritual or intel- 
lectual form of religious corruptions which should 
be first assailed ; inasmuch as this is the parent 
of the gross or flagrant form. We remit, how- 
ever, to another occasion, that primary subject, 
and turn to the secondary ; or the consideration 
of the means to be employed for awakening and 
reclaiming those of the lower sort, who abuse 
the Gospel. 

It is evident that, if a peculiar strength or 
tenacity belongs to any vicious infatuation, there 
must be found a proportionate force in the power 
that assails it. Now it will be granted that, if 
there be at all an infatuation, which, more than 
any other, is firm, even as the thick folds of 
leviathan, it is the one we have now to do with. 
Here are men, conversant with the purity of the 



LICENTIOUS RELIGIONISM. 



241 



Scriptures, who can persuade themselves that 
they fairly draw thence a licence for every 
enormity of the fleshly and malignant passions ! 
Amazing perversity! Who shall deem himself 
qualified to contend with an error so prodigious ? 
This is not the place for bringing into calcula- 
tion the irresistible efficacy of the Divine Spirit — 
an efficacy equally indispensable in all cases, and 
to which all difficulties are the same : but we are 
estimating the proportion between the strength 
of the evil to be assailed, and the power of 
the human means that are' applied to effect its 
removal. 

No argument can be needed to prove that, so 
far as human agency is at all implied, and so far 
as the wished-for result is dependent upon that 
agency, a disorder so grievous as the one in 
question, will not be subdued by ordinary means. 
Certainly it will not yield to the efforts, of those 
who themselves are lax and enfeebled in spirit, 
whose own moral perceptions are obscure, 
whose hearts are not ingenuous, whose purposes 
are sinister, and whose conduct is frivolous. 
Such may indeed vent their spite, or may display 
their mastery of language in copious streams 
of indignant rhetoric ; but not a breeze will be 
stirred by all this eloquence upon the surface of 
the stagnant pool which we desire to see cleansed. 
The evil is a substantial one as well as inveterate ; 
and must be contended with by a power that has 
in it a proportionate degree of fervour and energy. 

R 



242 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



The degree of audacity belonging, at any era, 
to the flagrant abuses that exist within the pale 
of Christianity, may be assumed as a datum 
whence to calculate the vigour and integrity of 
the Christian ministry, at the same time. The 
Christian ministry may fairly be considered as 
constituting, in every age, the Living Power of 
Reproof, by which the constant tendency of 
human nature to licentiousness and corruption is 
to be held in check. This tendency to disorder, 
and this Power of repression, are antagonist 
forces, of which the one will rise, as the other 
falls ; or the one recede, as the other advances ; 
and which, therefore, may, in their relative state 
of exaltation or depression, be taken as means 
of measurement, the one for the other. For 
example ; do we find an age in which pride, 
luxuriousness, impurity, rapacity, are suffered to 
come near to the altar of God, and to receive 
thence, either by the connivance or timidity of 
the ministers of that altar, the sacred symbols 
of the faith ? We have then, unquestionably, 
found a time in which, though there may be 
much eloquence in pulpits, much learning, much 
suavity, and some fair quantity of the higher 
excellences of Christian morals, there is little 
or no energy, or integrity, or simplicity, in the 
body that wields the Living Power of Rebuke. 

Whoever then petulantly complains of the 
impudent front which religious licentiousness 
is shewing within his circle, should first be 



LICENTIOUS RELIGIONISM. 



243 



prepared satisfactorily to prove that these dis- 
orders, which so much annoy him, do not at all 
indicate the inefficiency, or the unsoundness of 
his own mode of contending with them. It is 
the more necessary to admit impartial exami- 
nation on such an occasion, because the actual 
fault is very likely to attach, not specially to the 
individual, but rather to the general spirit of the 
body to which he belongs ; or to the prevailing 
style of public instruction in the age ; or to the 
false assumptions, or fanatical dogmas, or meta- 
physical crudities, of the theological system 
which then are bowed to. Now we may, at any 
time, find ten men who have discernment and 
ingenuousness enough to discover and to ac- 
knowledge their personal faults, sooner than one 
man who has the comprehension of mind requi- 
site to perceive and confess the faults of the 
system under which he has been reared, and 
which he stands pledged to support. This is 
a point reached only by a high order of intelli- 
gence ; and therefore attained, spontaneously, 
only by an exceedingly small number of man- 
kind. 

So powerful is the influence of long-existing 
mental usages, and habits of thought, and forms 
of expression, that almost any degree of aber- 
ration from reason and truth may take place (so 
that it does but advance upon us gradually) 
without exciting the attention, even of intelligent 
minds. Let but a numerous body descend, with 

r2 



244 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



a well-timed step, upon an easy declivity, and 
the lowest depths may be reached before any 
one pauses to ask — Whither are we tending ? 
Hence it is that, when at distant intervals, men 
are sent forth by Heaven to reinstate the church, 
or to reclaim mankind from general corruptions, 
they find that the labour of half their allotted 
term of years hardly suffices to convince their 
contemporaries, even the reasonable portion of 
them, that all things are not sound and right. 

It appears then, that when we come to ask by 
what means that corruption and licentiousness 
which is always apt to prevail within the church 
may be checked, we are led directly to an 
inquiry concerning the vigour and efficiency of 
that Living Power of Rebuke, whence it is to 
receive its counteraction. 



XV. 



THE POWER OF REBUKE. 

" IF THOU TAKE FORTH THE PRECIOUS FROM THE VILE, THOU 
SHALT BE AS MY MOUTH; AND I WILL MAKE THEE UNTO 
THE PEOPLE A DEFENCED BRAZEN WALL." 



It is by the gracious words of Divine Mercy 
that the hearts of men are to be subdued : these 
must always be the prime means of affecting 
and of vanquishing the impenitent. The human 
mind is framed to be influenced far more by 
hope and tenderness, than by terror and rebuke. 
This great truth may be assumed as one that is 
fully established, and universally confessed. 

But the Christian ministry includes also an 
office of commination ; and if the messengers of 
Heaven, when they go forth among the outcasts 
of mankind, who, in ignorance of God, have 
gone astray from virtue, are to speak much more 
of mercy than of wrath ; it is also true that, 
when they stand up among those who, being 
well informed in matters of religion, use the 
grace of the Gospel to palliate their vices, the 
message of wrath must be most upon their lips. 
The abusers of the Gospel are not to be treated 



246 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



as men theologically wrong ; but always in the 
ostensible character they sustain of evil doers, 
and open contemners of the awful authority of 
Heaven. 

In what spirit then, and from what inward 
force shall this difficult duty be discharged, we 
proceed to inquire. The tendency of the Chris- 
tian ministry is to move down from the high and 
arduous place which belongs to it, of a Remedial 
Function, to the lower and more grateful position 
of an office of delectation, either intellectual, or 
spiritual. Wherever refinement and good taste 
prevail, the preacher is tempted to become the 
organ of a species of grave and graceful enter- 
tainment beseeming " the Sunday : " and so long 
as he keeps in view the rule which, by a tacit 
compact, he is bound to observe, of furnishing 
an hour of pleasurable, meditative excitement ; 
he may take a wide range, both in style and 
subject : he may be argumentative or imagina- 
tive, epigrammatic and familiar, or lofty and 
ornate ; he may assume a low position, or a 
high one, in theology ; he may be emblematical, 
or literal ; mystical and profound, or neological 
and perspicuous : the wide world is all before 
him, so that he is but skilful in gathering bloom- 
ing flowers always from the surface over which 
he passes. But how shall any such honeyed lips 
utter, except as matter of gorgeous eloquence, 
the appalling verities of Divine Justice ? Na- 
ture forbids the incongruity, and more — the 



THE POWER OF REBUKE. 



247 



Renovating Spirit refuses to yield the energy of 
His power to the sway of a mere minister of 
public recreation. 

If, as is a far more frequent case, intelligence 
and taste be wanting in the preacher's circle, he 
must learn to furnish spiritual, instead of intel- 
lectual entertainment; such as may be drawn 
from the conceits and ingenuities of mystic 
exposition, from the enigmas and tropes of the 
Rabbinical school ; or from the soothing adula- 
tion which, after painting in bright colours the 
honours and privileges of the believer, allows 
professors of all sorts to appropriate the fulsome 
description. There may, it is true, be heard 
from the pulpits of this order of preachers 
louder and more frequent thunders than roll 
from those of the intellectual class. But the 
peals of wrath, though often hoarse, are directed 
always at some distant adversary ; at opponents 
of the sect, or at mankind at large, or at 
the occupiers of the high seats of secular great- 
ness ; but never, or very rarely, at the impure, 
the unjust, the rapacious, the malicious, who 
may be filling the pews around. A vigorous and 
impartial application of the law of God, backed 
by its tremendous sanctions, to the conduct 
and temper of the preacher's own audience, 
would break up his method, violate his tacit 
compact, and turn at once the whole tide of his 
popularity. 

The preacher whom we designate, the spiritual 



248 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



(in the want of a better term which might 
distinguish him from the intellectual) surrenders 
his last means of arousing the drowsy, inebriate 
conscience of the dissolute religionist, when, as 
often happens, he takes his standing within the 
lines of the old metaphysic theology. Upon 
that circle of crude and audacious logic, where 
hoary sophistry sets at defiance Scripture, rea- 
son, and charity, even the most ingenuous minds 
quickly lose all their simplicity, and the most 
sensitive all their compunction. To enter this 
school, where nature is trampled on, and torn, is 
to lay down humanity, and to take up the most 
amazing sort of mental induration of which the 
world has ever seen examples. The assertion 
may be hazarded, that a long course of profane 
and reckless sensuality, does not more effectu- 
ally obliterate from the heart its native awe of 
the Divine Authority, or its reverence for the 
justice, sanctity, and power of God, than does a 
thorough initiation in the brazen abstractions of 
the antique logical theology. Men and their 
systems are always to be thought of apart. A 
man, when on the ground of his system, is com- 
monly found altogether a different being from 
what he is in the walks of common life. To- 
day, and at home, he is perhaps sensitive and 
kind-hearted ; to-morrow, and in his officials, 
he speaks of the awful justice of the Supreme, 
and of its consequences, with the grave indif- 
ference, the monotony, and levity, of one who, 



THE POWER OF REBUKE. 



249 



though he has the human form and tongue, 
possesses neither conception of what he utters, 
nor the feelings of our nature. 

How strange is the power of accustomed 
phrases to conceal from the mind the ideas they 
are intended to convey ! This narcotic reaction 
of language upon the understanding is, in truth, 
a disadvantage common to the race, and for 
which allowance should be made on many par- 
ticular occasions. The inward sentiments of 
men are neither to be condemned, nor approved, 
in strict accordance with the obvious import of 
the conventional phrases they employ. Yet 
does it behove public men to be aware of the 
indurating effect of words, when digested into 
constant forms, and when sanctioned by imme- 
morial usage ; and they should continually en- 
deavour to break up, what may be called, the 
mental incrustations, which are always spreading 
themselves over the sensitive surface of the soul. 
This is most especially necessary in reference 
to those matters wherein the drowsy formalities 
of language tend directly to augment the stupi- 
fying influence that belongs to all vicious indul- 
gences. A mind already rendered callous by 
sensuality, receives, every week, a new, and again 
a new insensibility, from the heavy monotonies 
of the pulpit. How would both speaker and 
hearer be startled, if the former were, on a 
sudden, compelled to pause, and to translate 
into plain and colloquial terms, the appalling 



250 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



affirmations which have just been gliding un- 
noticed from his lips ! 

Nothing, it need hardly be said, is gained on 
the side of good morals, when the theological 
stupor of which we have now spoken, is ex- 
changed for the vehemence of a bad ambition to 
stimulate, by terrors, the dull ear of the multi- 
tude. Nor can we hope any better effect from 
the rancour of the sincere fanatic — -malign spirit! 
that finds its home, and seems to revel in the 
awful scenes of future punishment ; and cooly 
drives its car, curious and at ease, through the 
regions of perdition ! Though the instances are 
rare, there have actually been minds by which 
the place of retribution has been looked upon as 
a field of triumph, and the lost regarded as fallen 
foes, who might be trampled on and mocked, 
and to which the sinner, much rather than sin, 
is the object of hatred ! 

It is beneath the roar of some such fanatical 
rancour, or in sound of the boltless thunders 
of the mere man of rhetoric, or it is upon the 
bewitched circle of scholastic theology, that 
the licentious religionist enjoys his profoundest 
sleep. All men feel instinctively, that there 
is nothing of substance, nothing of sincerity, 
nothing, in a word, which need cause serious 
alarm, in either the virulence of the one de- 
claim er, or the profundities and sublimities of 
the other. 

Every part of the duty of the minister of 



THE POWER OF REBUKE. 251 



religion is more easy than to maintain, in vigour, 
the spirit he needs as the Reprover of sin, and 
guardian of virtue. It is easy to teach the 
articles of belief, and easy to illustrate the 
branches of Christian ethics ; it is easy to pro- 
claim the Divine mercy, and easy to meet and 
assuage the fears and sorrows of the feeble and 
afflicted. But to keep in full activity the Power 
of Rebuke, demands qualities of a rare sort. 
It is utterly fruitless to turn from side to side in 
search of substitutes for these qualities. The 
preacher may, for example, avail himself of ab- 
stract demonstrations, by which to vindicate the 
unalterable rigour of the Divine government : 
he may prove irrefragably, that the Supreme 
Ruler of the moral system can never pass over 
transgression ; but must needs exact the ap- 
pointed penalty, either from the transgressor or 
from his Substitute. The erudite argument, for 
any substantial effect it will produce, might as 
well have related to the motions of the planets. 
Or feeling the incongruity of abstruse reasoning, 
when addressed to the commonalty of mankind, 
he musters all the resources of eloquence. He 
is, in turn, descriptive, pathetic, indignant; he 
flames, he weeps, he astounds the hearer, by 
the prodigious accumulation of his phrases and 
figures of terror. Idle labour ! Even while the 
walls are ringing with these sounds of alarm, the 
covetous man, in his corner, is mentally counting 
his gold ; the eye of the vain and prurient is 



252 



SATURDAY EVENING 



darting from object to object of illicit attrac- 
tion ; the envious and malign is brooding on 
new calumnies, to be propagated at the church 
door ; the ambitious is plotting the destruction 
of his rival ; and the fraudulent and rapacious 
are, in cogitation, stretching the net for the feet 
of the unwary. And yet every rule of the most 
approved rhetoric has been observed ; yes, and 
every intelligent hearer goes away amazed at 
the skill and power of the preacher ; and this 
preacher too, was sincere in his endeavours ! 

Ah ! but to speak efficaciously of the holiness 
and justice of Almighty God, and of its future 
consequences ; to speak in modesty, tender- 
ness, and power, of the approaching doom of 
the impenitent, is altogether another matter, 
and one that must be left to those whose spirits 
have had much communion with the dread 
Majesty on high. As the punishment of sin 
springs, by an ineffable harmony, from the first 
principles of the Divine Nature, and infringes 
not at all upon benevolence, so must he who 
would rightly speak of that punishment, have 
attained to a more intimate perception of the 
coincidence of holiness and love, than language 
can convey, or than can be made the subject of 
communication between man and man. This 
knowledge belongs to the inner circle of the soul, 
the centre which the rational faculty does but 
imperfectly penetrate : it is a sense or emotion 
of the immortal essence, conveyed to the spirit 



THE POWER OF REBUKE. 



253 



by the Father of Spirits ; and only conveyed, in 
any considerable degree, where much medita- 
tion, and prayer, and abstraction from earthly 
passions, opens the way to its reception and 
entertainment. All other elements of devotional 
sentiment may lodge in the heart sooner than 
this. Hence it is that, on this point, more con- 
spicuously than on any other, ordinary teachers 
are at fault; and not a few, honest to themselves, 
and abhorrent of pretension or artifice, avoid 
almost entirely a subject on which they feel 
themselves to be unprepared to speak with feel- 
ing and energy. 

Indispensable as a qualification for the vigo- 
rous exercise of the Power of Rebuke, by the 
Christian minister, is such a conviction of the 
truth of Christianity, as shall render him proof 
against assaults from within, and from with- 
out. And is there not reason to fear that, in 
this qualification some Christian teachers are 
wanting ? Every one who has reflected ma- 
turely upon the workings of the human mind, 
perceives that, whether the fact be confessed or 
concealed, the stress of the controversy con- 
cerning the divine mission of Christ pends upon 
the doctrine of future punishment. The affir- 
mations of our Lord and his Apostles on this 
subject, though they fall in with the smothered 
forebodings of conscience, in every man's bosom, 
give a distinct form to apprehensions from which 



254 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



the mind strives, by all means, if possible, to 
escape, and which it will never cordially admit 
until the moral faculties be rectified. The quar- 
rel of the world with Christianity comes to its 
issue upon this doctrine of future retribution. 
And as often as any mind recedes from the 
spirituality of its perceptions, it falls back upon 
this disagreement ; and at such times, if the 
argumentative conviction of the truth of Christi- 
anity be imperfect, the darkness and perplexity 
of scepticism will come in upon the soul like a 
flood. 

While we are meditating, at ease, upon those 
illuminated scenes of joy which the Gospel 
spreads before us, and while we admit, in sim- 
plicity of heart, the consolations it affords us 
amid our present sorrows, we demand with little 
solicitude the reasons of our faith. Joy and 
hope are emotions indigenous to the human 
mind ; they are so because they belong to its 
original destiny, which was to happiness, and 
when they enter the soul, they bring with them 
a noble disdain of suspicions. But the very same 
law of our nature which makes joy and hope 
spontaneous, and unsuspecting, impels us to 
doubt, when the appalling presentiments of con- 
science are authenticated. As often as we set 
foot upon the region which sin has replenished 
with terrors, we have need of all the strength we 
can derive from the very firmest convictions. 

Fatal to his influence as Reprover of Sin, must 



THE POWER OF REBUKE. 



255 



be a lurking scepticism in the breast of the 
public teacher. No care will avail to conceal 
the inward misgiving of the mind : the tongue 
of the speaker will falter ; and the reserve — the 
indecision — the vagueness of his manner, or, 
still more,, his artificial vehemence, will betray 
the secret of his doubts, and the infection of 
these doubts will pass into the heart of the 
hearer, and will serve to harden each transgressor 
in his impenitence. 

But supposing his preliminary convictions to 
be firm, there is then another feeling of which 
the minister of Religion will find the need, w r hen 
he labours to affect the hearts of the licentious 
with fear. It is what may be termed — a reso- 
lute Loyalty to the Divine administration. This 
sentiment is in some measure distinguishable 
and separable from those intimate perceptions of 
which just above we have spoken. It rests itself 
upon the rectitude and perspicacity of the under- 
standing, takes its force from genuine piety, and 
affection to truths and is, if we might so speak, 
a robust emotion, less liable to fluctuation than 
some that are of a more exalted kind. It was 
in the spirit of this loyalty that the father of 
the faithful said — " Shall not the Judge of all 
the earth do right ?" and in his question assumed 
the conspicuous certainty of the affirmative. It 
was in the same spirit that the royal poet 
uttered his worthy persuasion — " I know, O 



256 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Lord, that all thy judgments are right." And 
it was with a similar force of healthy piety 
that Paul exclaimed — " Yea, let God be true, 
but every man a liar ! " 

This loyalty will break through the mazes of 
much sophistry ; it will support the servant of 
God in his position, when assailed by more fal- 
lacies than he is able at the moment to refute ; 
and it will strengthen him to cleave, even under 
all obloquies and embarrassments, to what he 
inwardly and firmly knows must, in the end, 
prove itself the better cause. 

Not less necessary to the minister of truth is 
an unaffected and sensitive compassion towards 
his fellow-men — a compassion of that efficient 
kind which nothing has ever produced in the 
world but the Gospel. The servant of heaven 
can execute his commission only so far as he 
gains access to the human heart ; and there is 
no other path of access, no other law of affinity, 
but that of love. The rugged, the severe, the 
petulant, will in vain arm himself with thunder, 
or fill his mouth with imprecations : truth, if 
indeed he has it on his side, retains neither edge 
nor temper in his hand. By such stern vindi- 
cators of Divine Justice it seems to be forgotten 
that the special reason why men, not angels, are 
sent to preach repentance, is, that the procla- 
mation of mercy may always be heard in that 
tone of tenderness and humiliation which it 



THE POWER OF REBUKE. 



257 



naturally receives when it issues from the lips of 
one who himself has sinned, and received pardon. 
The benevolence of angels is, no doubt, perfect 
in its kind ; but the compassions of man have 
a special property, which imparts pathos and 
persuasion to the awful announcement of God's 
displeasure against sin. The end of all reproof 
is mercy. If there were no Redemption at 
hand, it were idle, or cruel, to talk of Judgment. 
But the Reprover is the very same as the herald 
of peace, and must draw his arguments — whether 
of terror or entreaty, from his own blended con- 
viction of the certainty of the future punishment, 
and the reality of the means of escape. 

The expulsion of licentiousness from the 
sanctuary of religion includes some other 
considerations, to which attention may well be 
given. 



s 



XVI. 



STRENGTH OF THE POWER OF 
REBUKE. 

" HOWBEIT, IN UNDERSTANDING BE MEN." 



Contempt of common sense has been the 
special characteristic of debauched pietism in 
every age : hence, of course, an indispensable 
quality in the Reprover of such evils, is much 
of that prompt and vigorous intelligence to 
which the epithet Good Sense is applied. 

The mystic sophisms wherein religious pro- 
fligacy wraps itself are better cut through at a 
stroke, than removed as if they were entitled to 
respect. Our Lord, with a warmth of manner 
that was unlike his ordinary style, set the pat- 
tern of this mode of dealing with dissolute 
hypocrisy, when he assailed the Jewish doctors 
and their vicious casuistry. " Fools and blind ! 
how can ye escape the damnation of hell?" 
The whole train of the Apostolic writings be- 
speaks the same manly force in scattering, as at 
a blow, the pretences of sanctimonious knavery. 
The method of rabbinical exposition, which con- 
sisted for the most part in the construction of 



STRENGTH OF THE POWER OF REBUKE. 259 

evasions whereby the law of God might be made 
of none effect, and a corner saved for every sin, 
within the meaning of every prohibition, has 
been repeated, age after age, with variations. 
But the masters of the synagogue held their bad 
honours unrivalled, until at length the Jesuit 
bore away the palm of wicked ingenuity. Yet, 
even under the hand of the Jesuit, the refine- 
ments of hypocrisy did not reach their perfection ; 
and it remained to be shewn that the Spaniard 
and the Italian might, in this work, be outdone* 
Both have actually been surpassed by the mystic 
and debauched antinomian of our day, who has 
given incomparably more depth and force of 
colour to the doctrine of pious impurity, than 
either the Rabbi or the Jesuit had dreamed of. 

The strength of the Reformers was the 
strength of good sense, as opposed to wiles, and 
to doating inanities, and to ingenious knavery. 
In every dispute between them and the Romish 
doctors (if we subtract its particular terms, and 
nominal subject) the real point at issue was the 
preservation of common sense in the world, or 
its destruction : the controversy was between 
corrupt refinements in the theory and practice 
of religion, on the one hand ; and on the other, 
the perspicuous demands of right reason. The 
Reformation was a return of mankind to in- 
tegrity and simplicity of understanding, and a 
rejection of intellectual subtlety, imbecility, and 
fraud. 

s2 



260 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



But the manly vigour of the Reformation soon 
spent itself; and there sprung up on all sides, 
within its circle, various repetitions or revivals 
of the sacred follies of earlier ages. Some other 
of these follies may have produced as great, or 
a greater amount of evil ; but not one of them 
has so much scandalized the Reformation itself, 
or so much vilified Christianity, or has indicated 
nearly so fearful an audacity, as that which, by 
learned argumentation, has taught men that the 
commands and prohibitions of Scripture are 
nothing more than mythic revelations of Gospel 
mysteries, which it would be a childish simpli- 
city to understand in their grammatical sense, 
and still more absurd practically to regard in 
that sense. 

The angry controversies, with their jargon and 
empty profundity, which raged in protestant 
countries at the time of the Reformation, and 
downward, though they called upon the stage of 
the church much intellectual power, transmitted 
to the next century — not that power (which 
seemed to have been spent in the conflict) but 
what may be termed a preparative of theolo- 
gical perversity, which made smooth the path 
for the advance of the antinomian heresy. The 
understandings of the sons, it might be imagined, 
inherited the exhaustion and the debility which 
naturally succeeded to the excitement that had 
maddened the fathers. 

Perhaps no occurrence recorded in the history 



STRENGTH OF THE POWER OF REBUKE. 261 



of human nature — none of the ancient whims or 
enormities of superstition, is more truly amazing 
than what we have seen take place, during the 
last seventy years among ourselves. The case 
deserves to be distinctly stated in its peculiar 
circumstances. The English people, compared 
with their neighbours, may fairly claim the 
praise of soundness and vigour of understanding, 
and of much practical deference to truth. The 
course of events, moreover, has tended, in a 
remarkable degree, both to excite the mental 
faculties to strenuous exercise, and to bring idle 
and absurd speculations, of all kinds, into con- 
tempt. It is by such a people that the Scriptures 
are received, and diligently studied. And w r hat 
is the prominent character of these Sacred 
Writings ? Even if it were granted that, in their 
mode of revealing certain articles of faith, or in 
their allusion to subjects of polity and ceremony, 
such a degree of obscurity attaches to them as 
calls for industry and learning in the interpreter ; 
it is not less true that, in whatever relates, either 
to the great principles whence virtue should 
emanate, or to the detail of the virtues and the 
vices, to the application of general rules to 
particular relations, or occasions, the inspired 
writers leave nothing to be desired, or even 
imagined, in the way of perspicuity, or defini- 
tiveness, or of diversified expression, and ex- 
emplification. Considered merely as a book of 
morality, the Bible is incomparably a more 



262 SATURDAY EVENING. 

complete, intelligible, and popular Manual than 
any other composition. In this respect, though 
the teacher may find room for the enforcement 
of rules, he is scarcely at all called upon to 
exercise his skill as expositor. The Bible, in 
the plain matters of duty, of temper, and of 
social behaviour, comes home at once to the 
understanding of the rudest part of mankind ; 
and is very nearly the same book to the peasant, 
as to the doctor of divinity. And yet this is the 
volume which a portion of the most sober people 
in Europe has actually transmuted into a col- 
lection of sacred riddles, and has robbed, in the 
most absolute manner, of the whole of its force 
or application, as a divine directory of the con- 
science and conduct of men ! e The Bible/ say 
they, e affirms nothing — or nothing which is 
significant to Christians, on points of justice, 
temperance, purity, charity, meekness. What- 
ever it seems to say on these subjects, is in truth 
(under the guise of a divine trope or apologue) 
addressed to those who have become spiritually 
wise to discern the mystery beneath the letter of 
the written word.' 

This, with variations, and palliations, and 
fraudulent subterfuges, is the substance of that 
delusion which has spread through the religious 
body in all directions, and has had to boast 
among its adherents, not merely crowds of the 
simple and vulgar, but many of the rich and 
the educated, and has more than once been 



STRENGTH OF THE POWER OF REBUKE. 263 

defended by erudition and eloquence ! Such 
is the human mind, even when enjoying the 
most signal advantages, if once it severs itself 
from common sense, and falls under the influ- 
ence, either of some dream of intellectual bliss, 
or of the soft and yet impetuous force of volup- 
tuous desires. 

Shall we then think to dissipate delusions such 
as these by the method of scholastic argumenta- 
tion ? Shall we be learned and acute in our 
refutation of them ? The man who would pro- 
ceed in any such manner is simple as a child ; or 
has himself already inhaled a debilitating influ- 
ence from the poisoned atmosphere he breathes. 
On the ground of theory and speculation, the 
victims of such errors will be found to have lost 
irrecoverably the power of distinguishing truth 
from falsehood : the faculties of the understand- 
ing are all in solution, and no longer affect one 
the other, according to the laws of the rational 
constitution ; the mind does not float on the 
surface of intelligible notions, where it might be 
detained, or steered toward the hemisphere of 
light ; but it plunges vaguely hither and thither, 
in the profoundest depths of night : to reason 
and to knowledge it is lost. 

Yet, as we have said, Conscience is not extin- 
guished ; and a hope of recovery remains with 
the possibility of suddenly arousing this conser- 
vative power by the direct means of applying to 
each particular instance of immorality the Divine 



264 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



denouncements of future retribution, and these 
strengthened by the appalling descriptions which 
the Scriptures furnish. Experience has abun- 
dantly proved that such awakening declarations, 
when addressed to the untaught profligacy of 
the mass of mankind, and accompanied by the 
exhibition of mercy, have, in innumerable in- 
stances, proved efficacious. It is indeed granted 
that the moral and intellectual condition of the 
licentious religionist is far more desperate than 
that of ordinary transgressors ; yet it must not be 
deemed absolutely hopeless. 

Nevertheless it is manifest that an infatuation 
so peculiar demands extraordinary vigour in the 
instrument employed to effect its removal ; and 
having already adverted to some general causes 
which tend, either to corroborate or to enfeeble 
this instrument, we have now to consider a few 
of a more specific kind. 

Whoever would overthrow subtle casuistry, 
must be clear from the charge of ever having 
recourse to it himself. We must know no style 
but that of intrepid honesty, if we would at all 
use it with advantage ; and we shall fail in the 
attempt (without perhaps suspecting the cause 
of our defeat) to speak with firmness and autho- 
rity, as men, and as the servants of God, to 
one class of opponents, if, when called upon to 
address some other class, we find it necessary to 
descend from that lofty position, and to subtilize, 



STRENGTH OF THE POWER OF REBUKE. 265 

to avail ourselves of the tricks of controversy, 
to be adroit, disingenuous, ingenious; to evade 
conclusive arguments by wit, or violence; and to 
conceal, beneath a many-coloured cloak of idle 
declamation, that which, if exposed to view, we 
should be ashamed to call our own. 

The highly difficult work of reclaiming the 
infatuated religionist demands a simplicity of 
mind which must unfit a man for the deli- 
cate task of recommending the dogmas and 
practices (entire) of a party, let that party 
be as pure as it may. When, in obedience to 
certain maxims of policy or discretion, which, 
however learnedly excused, fall immeasurably 
short of true wisdom, we step forward as the 
apologists of things that all right-minded men 
feel, whether they say so or not, to be utterly 
indefensible, we sever the nerve of our moral 
and intellectual strength, by the very act. No 
expectation can be more egregious than that of 
finding ourselves men to-morrow, if we must be 
sophists to-day. There is a law of continuity, 
and of homogeneity, in the human mind, there 
is an equalizing of powers, which makes it take 
its permanent character from the humiliations to 
which at any time it submits, and which demands 
that it shall go to its place on the scale of dignity 
and power, not according to the highest elevation 
it ever reaches, or may aspire to, nor even mid- 
way between the highest and the lowest point ; 
but near to the lowest. Spontaneously and 



266 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



consciously to submit to degradation, even for 
an hour, is for ever to be degraded. 

We need not then be much amazed if, in 
looking abroad over the Christian community, 
we see, in some quarters, the authority of God 
and the dictates of common sense set at defi- 
ance, notwithstanding the faithful, and laborious, 
and perhaps intelligent endeavours of worthy and 
able men to put the contumacious to silence. 
The truth probably is, that these good and 
sincere men have surrendered in some manner 
the fulness of their integrity and energy. The 
evil they are contending with is too ponderous 
to be moved by the shoulders that are set to 
it. To-day, you find them zealously protesting 
against the sophistries of sin ; but yesterday, 
perhaps, they were performing some needful 
service for the interests of the party they stand 
connected with ; and there is no religious 
party that has not work to perform in which 
no man can engage and come forth as he went 
into it. 

It is asked, vauntingly by some persons — 
What is the great evil of our religious diver- 
sities, seeing that the matters in debate are com- 
paratively unimportant ? Alas ! it is this very 
non-importance of the controversies that divide 
the church, which imparts to them their debi- 
litating influence on the minds of Christians. 
So long as men disagree on questions of great 
moment, they will continue to be men, although 



STRENGTH OF THE POWER OF REBUKE. 267 

they may be injuriously inflamed. But allow 
them to divide and to wrangle on trifles, and all 
infallibly will become frivolous. Nothing can 

„ CD 

arrest this consequence. A century of foolish 
discord will be found enough to dissipate all the 
force of mind which the bounty of nature may, 
in that period, have afforded to the service of 
the Church. 

Let it then be impartially asked, whether the 
existing divisions which keep asunder the body 
of true Christians, have not a direct influence in 
withdrawing from that body the internal vigour 
which should enable it to throw off the enormous 
evils that infest it. 

But there are milder forms of religious laxity, 
that demand some notice. 

In every religious circle there exists and grows, 
it is to be feared, unobserved, a sad amount of 
immorality in conduct, or temper, under favour 
of that indefinite mode of enforcing the pre- 
ceptive part of religion, which is too common. 
The Law and the Gospel, divinely wedded pair, 
have been lamentably divorced among us. Under 
one sacred roof the Commandments are spoken 
of as if they comprised the whole of God's mes- 
sage to man ; while under another the Gospel 
imposes silence upon the Commandments. The 
result, though different in appearance, is sub- 
stantially the same : the hearers in the one 
case continue in their sins, because they are 



268 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



furnished with none of the motives of spiritual 
life ; and in the other, because they are left to 
expound the code of Christian duty in their own 
way ; or are allowed to forget it altogether. 

It is true, that both these preachers make 
occasional allusion to the class of truths which 
each ordinarily neglects. The first speaks of 
the free provisions of the Gospel very much in 
the reluctant manner of the debtor, who men- 
tions his obligation in the presence of his cre- 
ditor ; or as the culprit speaks of the evidence 
which convicts him ; or as the proud man con- 
fesses his dishonour, or the ambitious man his 
overthrow. But never does he utter himself 
cordially on subjects of this kind ; and never to 
the smallest discernible good purpose. 

And it is much in the same tone that the 
preacher of grace, too often, while he grants 
that personal virtue is a proper and indeed ne- 
cessary accompaniment of faith, and while once 
and again he declares that, e holiness should be 
the fruit of pardon,' makes this declaration the 
beginning and the ending of his exposition of the 
ethical portions of the Scriptures. What this 
* holiness' implies or contains, none can tell you ; 
or if they can tell, they have not been taught 
that the parts of it are indispensable to the con- 
stitution of the whole, or that it can exist only 
by the presence of every one of its parts. Even 
if an indirect inference from the preacher's 
doctrine does not belie his bald affirmations in 



STRENGTH OF THE POWER OF REBUKE. 269 

favour of virtue, they pass upon the drowsy ear 
of the sensual, the malignant, or the fraudulent, 
as a mere pulpit usage — an Amen, or a Gloria, 
which is to come in at a pause ; but which no 
one heeds. 

Truly it is not by the use of certain abstract 
phrases, just where the symmetry of the dis- 
course may seem to call for them, that the mass 
of mankind, inert, corrupted, and urgently 
solicited by bad passions, and bad customs, is 
to be taught the particulars of morality, in its 
several branches of self-command, truth, and 
justice ; or restrained from illicit indulgences. 
It is not in any such vague and listless style that 
flagrant offenders are to be put to open shame : 
it is not thus that secret transgressors are to be 
brought out from their concealments ; nor thus 
that the wavering purpose of the young is to be 
determined to the better side, or fortified by the 
recollection of future judgment against the hour 
of temptation. Nor is it thus, in a word, that 
a vivid and abiding sense of the awful majesty of 
God, and of the exact rectitude of his govern- 
ment, is to be maintained in the minds of the 
people. There may be found, it is true, in every 
congregation, a few individuals— two or three 
perhaps in a hundred, whose private meditations, 
and whose serious study of the Scriptures, does, 
in great measure, supply to themselves the 
deficiencies of public instruction. But it is 
certain that the morals of the mass of the people 



270 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



will correspond very nearly with what is done by 
their teachers to inform them in the principles of 
virtue ; and if these principles are conveyed 
vaguely, honour, integrity, and temperance, will 
be as vague. 

One who is well acquainted with human 
nature, who knows its infirmity, its incon- 
sistency, its laxity of purpose, its proneness to 
admit the illusions of passion and self-love, must 
shudder when he finds in what way certain 
congregations are entertained, year after year, 
with topics that scarcely at all affect the con- 
science : the people are made theologians, per- 
haps, or they are moved to emotion, or they 
are impelled to take their part in ostensible 
works of mercy ; but " the great matters of the 
law" are hidden from their eyes ; and multitudes, 
without any deliberate purpose of abusing the 
grace of God to licentiousness, and without any 
extraordinary impulsion towards vicious prac- 
tices, slide unconsciously into whatever evil most 
solicits them ; because their minds are fortified 
by no explicit warnings, and are unfurnished with 
any definite principles of conduct. 

We say, a wise and con side rate man will be 
fain to make his escape from such a scene of 
things, sorrowfully exclaiming — " Surely the 
fear of God is not in this place ! " 



XVII. 
THE RECLUSE. 

" ADD TO GODLINESS, BROTHERLY KINDNESS." 



The principle of the Apostolic injunction may 
be thus expressed — Genuine piety is social ; and 
this social piety is not affection to a party ; but 
universal love. 

Perhaps there is no order of sentiments and 
habit of life which reason cannot approve, and 
which Christianity condemns, that more strongly 
recommend themselves as innocent and excel- 
lent, than those of secluded meditative piety. 
We speak not, of course, of the morose and 
misanthropic spirit of the ascetic, or of his pre- 
posterous practices ; but of that milder sort of 
anchoretic religion which, without admitting a 
particle of ill-will towards mankind, leads the 
subject of it to withdraw himself from society, 
that he may drink, without interruption, of the 
still stream of delight springing from holy 
contemplation. 

The man who tastes, in a high degree, these 
pleasures of abstracted thought, may perhaps 



272 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



owe to circumstances something of the perfection 
of enjoyment he attains ; but it is certain he 
must have received his primary qualifications 
from nature. There is a serenity — might we 
borrow a term and say, a lentitiide of the physical 
temperament, there is a native translucency of 
mind, there is a correct keeping of time, a rhythm 
and melody in the movements of the passions, 
there is a steady, tranquil flight of the fancy, and 
there is a habit of abstraction (not philosophical 
but imaginative) which, altogether, supply to 
the mind that combines them a far higher and 
more constant happiness than is ever, even under 
the most favourable circumstances, to be drawn 
from the ordinary external sources of pleasure. 
The man of meditation is happy, not for an 
hour, or a day, but quite round the circle of his 
years. 

As there are powers in human nature, facul- 
ties both rational and imaginative, which lie 
dormant, while man continues in a savage state ; 
so is there much in the circle of the tranquil 
emotions which does not come at all into play, 
but is absolutely latent, in the bosoms of the 
mass of mankind. The turbulent and turbid 
passions, and the urgent solicitudes of the mul- 
titude, allow nothing that is not vivid and impor- 
tunate to gain their attention. And so it is that 
the hidden treasures of the soul, the secret 
delights of the heart, become the unenvied 
portion of a few meditative spirits. In these, 



THE RECLUSE. 



273 



the intellectual life is quick in all its parts. It 
is as when the waters of a lake are left to deposit 
their feculence, and to become pure as the ether 
itself; so that they not only reflect from their 
surface the splendours of heaven, but allow the 
curious eye to gaze delighted upon the decorated 
grottoes and sparkling caverns of the depth 
beneath. 

Or might we say, that the ground of the 
human heart is thickly fraught with seeds which 
never germinate under either a wintry, or a too 
fervent sky ; but let the dew come gently on the 
ground, and let mild suns warm it, and let it be 
guarded against external rudeness, and we shall 
see spring up the gaiety and fragrance of a 
garden. The Eden of human nature has indeed 
long been trampled down, and desolated : storms 
waste it continually ; nevertheless the soil is 
still rich with the germs of its pristine beauty ; 
all the colours of Paradise are sleeping in the 
clods ; and a little favour, a little protection, a 
little culture, shall shew what once was there. 
Or if we look at the human spirit in its relation 
to futurity, we shall have to acknowledge that, 
as an immortality of joy is its proper destiny, so 
is it moved by instincts which are the true prog- 
nostics of eternal life. Earthly passions quench 
these forescents of happiness ; but meditation 
fosters them ; and the life of the religious recluse 
is a delicious anticipation of pleasures that shall 
have no end. 



274 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Yet may the course of life adopted by the 
solitary religionist be partially excused on more 
solid ground. Is not self-knowledge the chief 
or initial part of true wisdom ? But self-know- 
ledge is the product of an analysis that never 
absolutely reaches simple elements. Let our 
secret motives be examined with as much pre- 
cision as may be, it is natural to them to coalesce, 
and to form new combinations ; and this without 
end : the work of analysis has always to be 
renewed, and is never achieved. Moreover 
there is a quick sensibility of conscience attend- 
ing the diligent inspection of the heart, which 
becomes continually more and more exquisite, 
the more it is exercised : the perception of good 
and evil acquires a fineness of apprehension, a 
power of discrimination, such as incites it always 
to advance and to apply itself anew to every 
minute circumstance of the moral life. This 
vivid and ever-growing sensitiveness, therefore, 
and this power of scrutiny, find full occupation 
for the meditative spirit, and seem to deny it 
time or liberty to be engaged with the interests 
of the common world. 

We may advance a step further. Religion, 
or the devotional part of it, is nothing else but 
the communion of the soul with God, and is 
therefore, by its necessary condition, seclusive. 
There is no piety of a multitude : the w r orship 
of a congregation is the worship of so many 



THE RECLUSE. 



275 



hearts,, each rendered a degree more fervent 
than otherwise by the power of sympathy. But 
if the elements of worship have not been brought 
together from the depth of individual spirits, 
they exist not at all. In true worship, whether 
the scene be the place of public convocation, 
or the closet, the soul brings its own immortal 
substance and personal destiny, its recollec- 
tions, hopes, and fears — yes, itself, as if it were 
the only created existence, or in oblivion of all 
others, under the eye of God. How vivid so- 
ever may be the emotions that spring in each 
heart from its communion with others, such 
feelings can never come into comparison with 
those that belong to its own ultimate well-being. 

In the solitude of true worship the human 
spirit avails itself of, and confesses, two most 
momentous truths ; first its original homoge- 
neity with the Divine nature, without which 
there could be no communion, since none but 
like things can blend; and secondly, the as- 
sumption of the human nature by the Divine, 
in the person of the Son of God, which is the 
means and medium of intercourse between Hea- 
ven and earth. But both these ineffable doc- 
trines imply that the soul may approach so near 
to the Majesty on high as to forget all things 
but God and itself. 

The habit of meditative piety being once 
formed, and its expansion also favoured, as we 
have supposed, by a peculiar sensibility of the 

t 2 



276 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



imagination, there is opened to it an unbounded 
field of delicious contemplation in the natural 
world. The power and wisdom of the Creator 
are indeed vaguely discerned, as well as formally 
confessed, by ordinary minds, whenever parti- 
cular specimens of both are produced ; but the 
man addicted to devout meditation, is not only 
alive to such indications of the Divinity, at all 
times and in all places, for he sees in them much 
more than the bare attribute of which such 
instances yield a proof ; he sees there the entire 
personality of the Divine Being, with all the 
glories of his moral attributes, inasmuch as the 
habit of his soul forbids that he should think of 
God at all otherwise than personally. To him it 
is not power, and wisdom, and beneficence, ab- 
stractedly, that are displayed in the visible Crea- 
tion, but rather God himself — his Friend, and 
Father. Each work of the Divine hand is a 
symbol, indicative of much more than could be 
rigidly demonstrated by its means. The tones of 
a voice — a voice familiar, in a perpetual melody, 
fall upon his ear, as he walks among the crea- 
tures ; and whatever emotion may be then stir- 
ring in the depth of his soul, is ready to be 
called up by these celestial notes. 

And here ought to be noted a peculiarity be- 
longing to the habit of devout meditation upon 
the scenes of nature — a peculiarity which in 
part explains the fondness of religious recluses 
for wild and desolate regions. There is a purity, 



THE RECLUSE. 



277 



or abstinence, in the tastes of the man of medi- 
tation. He by no means desires to be placed in 
the midst of the gaudy magnificence of nature, 
before he can fill his soul with the ravishment 
he delights in. He would not, even if he might 
choose, walk through groves of luscious and 
spicy pleasure, where every colour and every 
fragrance satiates the sense. He does not covet, 
as his home, some valley of the East, where the 
sun seems to linger and shed all his favours. 
On the contrary, he would much rather draw 
his devout inferences from the slenderest or 
most modest examples ; he chooses to dwell 
upon instances wherein the parsimony of nature 
gives larger space to the diligence of reflection ; 
and where the premises are always less obtrusive 
than the conclusion. Yes, it is most true, that 
the pious contemplatist finds, in the sear herb- 
age of the wilderness, and on the rugged and 
scorched surface of granite rocks, symbols enough 
of God; and he thinks himself richly furnished 
with book, and lesson, and teacher, when he 
descries, on his solitary way, only a blade of 
grass ! 

Or even if the prospect on earth be absolutely 
void of life, the skies are still open to the gaze 
of the recluse ; and are they not spread out for 
his peculiar benefit ? who but himself draws 
thence the principles of divine philosophy ? 
who else renders back, as he does, the tribute 
of praise due from all minds to the Infinite 



278 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Architect ? The crowd of men see not God in 
the stars, and hold back the revenue of deserved 
adoration which the heavens challenge for their 
Maker. But the meditative man separates him- 
self from the world, that he may discharge this 
duty as a vicarious person, and perform, on the 
behalf of others, the office they neglect. The 
mass of men could hardly be more sordid than 
they are, hardly more reluctant to admit ideas 
of greatness and power, hardly more dull, gross, 
and frivolous, if a perpetual screen of vapours 
concealed entirely from our knowledge the splen- 
dour of the universe. 

And an easy transition leads the contemplatist 
from the brightness and extent of the visible 
heavens, to the magnificence and stately array 
of the invisible world — the intelligent progeny 
of the Universal Father. The conceits of a 
puerile fancy excluded, and nothing assumed 
which the severest reason ought to condemn, 
or which Scripture does not authenticate, the 
meditative mind readily finds a range of thought 
in this region, such as may well compensate for 
the absence of all the pomps which earthly 
empires might bring together. 

Nor must it be forgotten that there are cir- 
cumstances of a humiliating kind in the actual 
condition of man, which tend to enhance by 
reaction the pleasures of the solitary life, or to 
corroborate the purpose of the recluse in his 



THE RECLUSE. 



279 



separation from the world. By the very con- 
stitution of human nature a vehement contra- 
riety exists between the principles of the higher 
and lower life, the intellectual and the animal, 
which, though it may be gracefully concealed by 
elegance of manners, and the artificial modes of 
civilized life, is never absolutely reconciled, and 
presses always as an annoyance and a burden 
upon the high-wrought sensibilities of serious 
meditative minds. The susceptibility of such 
minds, as well as their want of active energy, 
exposes them painfully to -this uneasiness. Nor 
can they avail themselves of the aid which, in 
the gay and busy world, is supplied by levity 
and joyousness, and by the mere velocity of 
affairs. It is not so much the pains, and wants, 
and heavier woes of our corporeal nature, as its 
humiliations, which afflict the sensitive recluse. 
On his principles and with his habits of feeling, 
he can be happier amidst sufferings and neces- 
sities, than when solicited and disturbed by 
trivial cares merely, or by ignoble occupations ; 
for the former impel and aid him to abstract 
himself, more and more, from the body; but the 
latter, against all his tastes, implicate him in 
its meanness. 

To hide himself from the world, is not, it is 
true, to escape from the humiliations of the 
body ; nevertheless it is to be exempt from all 
but those of his own: it is to be free from the 
annoyance and the disgusts of that vulgarity 



280 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



which, in the world, obtrudes whatever is fleshly 
upon observation. The recluse, if at any time 
he be exposed to the grossness, or the frivolity, 
or the petulant selfishness of common life, re- 
coils impatiently, and embraces anew, with an 
eager preference, the immunities and calm de- 
lights of his cell. There, almost forgetting that 
he is tenant of mortality, he converses with per- 
fection and infinitude. Safe — safe, with the 
pleasures of meditation all his own ; pleasures 
of which none can deprive him, he is indifferent 
to all things else ; a dungeon, or a desert, is 
to him a paradise. 

A sensibility too highly excited, and which 
has become too much the exclusive habit of the 
mind, distinguishes the recluse ; and this again 
impels him, with an inconsistency he cannot jus- 
tify, not merely to hide himself from the crowd 
of men, but even to get absolution from the ties 
of private affection ; for it is thus only that he 
can be exempt from the intolerable pains of ex- 
cessive sympathy. Hence it happens that the 
very man whose firm persuasion of things invi- 
sible might well give him serenity amid the 
vicissitudes of the present life, exhibits far less 
composure than those often do who, when they 
lose wealth, and friends, and reputation, lose 
absolutely all which they have ever thought of, 
or desired. 

But perhaps there is nothing which so much 



THE RECLUSE. 



281 



determines the man of meditation in his purpose 
of hiding himself in solitude, as that spirit of rude 
intrusiveness and intolerance, which prevails in 
the world, and which, moreover, seems often to 
draw around the inoffensive and the modest, and 
to make such their sport and victim. It is the 
peculiar delight of vulgar arrogance, not merely 
to violate the substantial rights of those who are 
feeble and unarmed; but to carry their invasions, 
if it be possible, into the very souls of men. 
To rule in the visible and tangible world is not 
enough : the despot must sway the private sen- 
timents, and disturb the meditations of all who 
dare not defy his tyranny. The most innocent 
tastes are regarded as matters of personal quar- 
rel, by the obstreperous usurper : 6 While you 
cloak your thoughts, I assume that you are har- 
bouring the purpose of resistance to my will. 
When you express them, you openly withstand 
my power.' Such is the real meaning of the lan- 
guage of arrogant and overbearing tempers. 
What wonder if the meek and the modest escape, 
when they can, from the circle of this violence ; 
or that, when so escaped, their hearts should 
passionately cleave to the freedom of the mo- 
nastic life ? 

A feeling similar to this is common even to 
men of far more intellectual vigour than we have 
attributed to the Recluse, and actually exerts 
a great influence over the manners and habits of 
some of the most superior minds. Such are 



282 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



compelled to confess that it is only within the 
sanctuary of their own hosoms they can enjoy 
free converse with truth and reason. The open 
world is too wilful, too capricious, and too in- 
tolerant, to give place to the liberty in which 
Truth and Reason delight. In the very choicest 
society there is not enough of simplicity, and 
integrity ; not candour, not knowledge, not per- 
spicuity enough, to allow scope for the unanxious 
expression and copious interchange of thought. 
There are truths, or we should rather say there 
are indications of truth, which are not to be 
entertained without much delicacy of handling. 
Bring them into dispute — haul them forth upon 
the arena of controversy, and they vanish from 
the sight. It is far from being an axiom that 
whatever is true and important, or even in a 
degree intelligible, may be brought out and sub- 
mitted to the judgment of any sort of minds. 
The very reverse is often the fact. Beyond that 
bounded circle of things which may be measured 
on all sides, and categorically spoken of, and 
which forms the homestead of minds of little 
leisure or comprehension, there is a wide and 
uncircumscribed sphere, wherein spirits excur- 
sive and philosophically modest, take their range, 
and whence they bring home, if not certain and 
irrefragable conclusions, at least scattered par- 
ticles of wisdom, which they more highly esteem 
than all the stamped coinage whereof dogmatism 
makes its boast. It is precisely to save these 



THE RECLUSE. 



283 



elements of imperfect knowledge, that the man 
of comprehensive mind often hides himself in 
silence, or withdraws altogether from society. 

If the characteristic difference between strong 
and feeble minds were asked for, it might be re- 
plied, that it is found in the habit (in the former 
case) of adhering firmly to truths which have 
once been settled on satisfactory evidence ; and 
(in the other) in that of calling such principles 
into question, ever and again. But if it were 
required to distinguish great minds from strong 
ones, we must say, that the latter so hold their 
system of established truths, as to shut out the 
prospect of what may lie beyond it ; while the 
former, without quitting the ground of demon- 
stration, and without confounding the known with 
the hypothetical, never lose sight of that more 
distant range of things, which the human eye is 
permitted dimly to discern, though not distinctly 
to explore. 

To return from this momentary digression, it 
may be affirmed that a man much addicted to 
religious meditation comes into the possession 
of a rich treasure of undefined sentiments, and 
indistinct conceptions, which he is by no means 
prepared either to exhibit or to defend before all; 
and which he feels to be safe from spoliation, 
only when he himself is far removed from the im- 
pertinence and the insolence of the open world. 

If the Recluse be thus strongly confirmed in 



284 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



his choice of a life of retirement, he is also, if 
single-hearted and sincere, freed, by his higher 
principles, from those motives which, in secular 
minds, effectively counteract the desire of se- 
clusion. It has not been a rare occurrence to 
see men of extraordinary intellectual stature, 
who yesterday were pressing through the crowd, 
and challenging to themselves all eyes and ears, 
to-day betaking themselves, in high disgust, to 
some valley of silence ; and yet to-morrow they 
will be found again in the very midst of the up- 
roar of the world. And a similar inconsistency 
has often marked the course of the self-admiring 
anchoret, who, after he has actually acquired the 
power of enduring that most intolerable of evils 
■ — absolute solitude, at length reverts to natural 
motives, strolls back towards the borders of his 
wilderness, towards the skirts of the profane 
world ; and there gives it to be understood — that 
he consents to be gazed at ! 

But the genuine recluse, by his converse with 
absolute excellence, and by the firmness and 
distinctness of his hope of immortality, has 
gained a real mastery over the desire of human 
applause ; and is truly content to live and die 
unknown of men : the motives therefore which 
retain him in solitude are not counterpoised by 
any other sentiments. 

Yes ; — but there remains a difficulty, an insu- 
perable difficulty, in the way of the Recluse. 
This very Christianity, whence he has derived 



THE RECLUSE. 



285 



the various elements of his solitary bliss, the 
very book which opens to him an inexhaustible 
treasure of ineffable meditation, itself peremp- 
torily refuses to give its sanction to his purpose 
of seclusion : it follows him to his cell with 
imperative commands, and requires him, instead 
of thus seeking to " please himself/' to return 
into the very heart of every social relation, and 
to encumber himself with every office of com- 
mon life ! 

Among the many unobtrusive, yet convincing 
evidences of the divine original of the Scriptures, 
the one now T presented to us must not be over- 
looked, or deemed of small value. Christianity, 
very far excelling, as it does, any other system of 
religion the world has seen, in furnishing the 
means, and in presenting the objects, and in 
enhancing the motives, of solitary meditation, 
nevertheless takes the better course of good 
sense and benevolence, and enjoins (whatever 
may be the impulse of personal tastes) that 
" Godliness" should add to itself — "brotherly 
kindness ; " or in other words declares, that no 
piety is authentic, which is not social. 



XVIII. 

THE MODERN ANCHORET. 



" AND TO BROTHERLY KINDNESS, CHARITY." 



But too much fondness for meditative retire- 
ment is not the crying sin of our modern 
Christianity. The mildness and modesty of 
monasticism is little likely to gain admirers 
among those whose activity, and whose frivolity, 
whose disputatious spirit, and whose tendency to 
scepticism, whose mercantile habits, and whose 
preference of physical science, lead them to hold 
in great contempt whatever has no exchangeable 
value in society. 

Yet it does not follow because we do not 
tolerate monasticism, and do not hold contem- 
plative modesty in honour, that we should find 
no room at all for unsocial, malign, and selfish 
pietism. Facts prove the contrary. Nevertheless 
it is true, as might w r ell be supposed, that the 
modern seclusive style of religion adapts itself to 
the spirit of the times, and is altogether unlike the 
trembling, solitary taste of early ages. If there is 
to be in England, and in the nineteenth century, 



THE MODERN ANCHORET. 



287 



a repulsive system of religion, it must be abstruse, 
ratiocinative, stern, and in some sense philoso- 
phical. It must assume the form of erudite and 
metaphysical theology; and will be found no 
lover of shade, and silence, and peace — inof- 
fensive as imbecile ; but bold, arrogant, full of 
defiance, rancour, contradiction ; it will be loud, 
intolerant, severe, exclusive, and aggressive : it 
will be inexorable, and factious. Such must be 
the character of anti-social godliness in our 
times, and for our country. 

Is then this description altogether hypotheti- 
cal ; or may we actually trace it in the fea- 
tures of some existing party ? This is to be 
inquired ; and having already adverted to the 
principal perversion of modern Christianity, as 
exhibiting the twofold form of a higher, and a 
lower— an intellectual, and a vulgar corruption ; 
we now name this higher and intellectual heresy, 
as identical with the anchoretic pietism of our 
times. 

The task of weighing and adjusting abstruse 
distinctions may very properly be renounced, 
when nothing more than the intelligible prin- 
ciples of good feeling and sympathy between man 
and man are in question. We shall therefore 
pay no regard to those metaphysical filaments 
by which the ultra-calvinist may endeavour to 
hedge off the interval between himself and 
the fatalist; but assuming as fair, the obvious 
sense of the phrases he is accustomed to employ, 



288 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



shall describe and treat him as what he seems. 
We affirm then, that although the amiable 
dispositions of an individual, or the happy 
inveteracy of the better instincts of our nature, 
or a prudent deference to common notions, 
and common modes of speaking, may greatly 
modify or disguise the fact, it is always true, 
that the fatalist, whether philosophical or reli- 
gious (if he understand and truly believe his 
dogma) is a being insulated from the communion 
of the active and sympathetic world. He may, 
if he pleases, borrow the wings of Night, and 
pass beyond the bounds of the visible universe ; 
or he may hover over the precincts of the living; 
it is equally certain that his fatalism encompasses 
him with solitude : he is always alone, though 
in the midst of the busiest crowd. That man 
must assuredly be so, who has no faith in the 
reality of the principles and motives upon which 
the mass of mankind are acting ; who holds the 
entire machinery of the moral world to be an 
illusion, and who, though he may smile and 
weep, in courtesy with others, inwardly jeers the 
complicated farce of hopes and fears of which, as 
he thinks, mankind is the dupe. 

The atheistical fatalist, and the theological 
fatalist — the man of abstract demonstrations, and 
the man of texts and polemics, he who makes 
mockery of his fellow-men profanely, and he 
who does the same thing in perverted phrases 
of Scripture, are alike universal scoffers. Or 



THE MODERN ANCHORET. 



289 



if there be any thing excepted from the range 
of their contempt, it is just the little circle 
of their private welfare (for no philosopher of 
this class pretends to think his own pains and 
pleasures a jest.) In the view of the fatalist, 
though there may be a thousand petty absurdi- 
ties on earth, nothing is half so absurd as the 
entire constitution of the moral system ; nothing 
so preposterous as man, and his destinies ! Or 
if the religious fatalist, when compared with 
the atheistical, seems to possess the merit of 
respecting the language and decencies of piety ; 
it is only that he may commit a far worse 
outrage upon the first principles of religious 
fear and love, by horridly distorting every attri- 
bute of the Divine Nature. Better were it at 
once to say, There is no God, than admit a 
Deity such as the fatalist supposes. The atheist 
saves a thousand impieties, by the one impiety 
of denying boldly the greatest and most certain 
of all truths. The religious fatalist can never 
speak honestly and consistently of either God 
or man, without uttering a blasphemy, or a 
calumny. 

And when he goes about to digest his notions 
of the moral attributes of the Supreme Being, 
he is compelled to impose a sense altogether 
novel and peculiar upon the terms — Benevolence, 
Mercy, Justice, Holiness; so that they no longer 
retain any analogy with the sense they bear 
when applied to human sentiments and actions, 

u 



290 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Ill other words, he excludes the notion of the 
Divine character entirely from the circle of 
human ideas ; or he cuts off the interpretable 
connexion between the one set of ideas and the 
other ; and this is the same thing as to deprive 
the mind of man of the only conceptions it can 
form of God ; it is atheism — all but a name. 
When therefore a theologue of this school 
reverts to the precincts of human affections, 
he finds that the notions commonly entertained 
of kindness ) beneficence, rectitude, and other quali- 
ties, have nothing in them that is divine or 
spiritual, on his principles ; and he looks upon 
such emotions, or modes of conduct, with suspi- 
cion, or with contempt, as natural merely, and 
therefore as proper objects of reprobation. Poor 
preparation, truly, for the faithful, generous, 
and upright discharge of social duties ! To 
think injuriously of God, is always to deprave 
or to nullify morality. 

We are granting that our man of abstruse 
theology, intellectualist as he is, does not per- 
sonally stand chargeable with violating the com- 
mon rules of justice, or temperance: we consider 
him only as necessarily anti-social in his religious 
sentiments ; and he is so (if indeed his principles 
take hold of his mind) because his theological 
ideas of moral qualities are altogether inappli- 
cable to the human system, and can never be 
brought to work in with any ordinary feelings of 
good-will, and charity. He is taught to shun, as 



THE MODERN ANCHORET. 



291 



false, if not pernicious, the entire body of these 
mundane emotions, and natural virtues. His 
religion is not an amendment, a purification, 
a restoration of things that have fallen into 
decay and corruption : it does not mingle 
itself as a congenial leaven with what actually 
exists ; but is a foreign element, abhorrent of 
all other principles, and exclusive of all others. 
The theologue feels that, in conversing with 
his fellow-men on the ground of their notions 
or feelings, he is holding his own in abey- 
ance, or is forfeiting consistency : such com- 
munion is a concession to folly and error, 
like that of a man, who, for an hour, makes 
himself a party in the sports and prattle of 
children. 

But although our religious sophist is thus 
shut out from free and ingenuous converse with 
mankind at large, and is condemned to look in 
disdain upon the movements and sympathies 
of the wide world ; may he not find scope for 
his benevolence, at least within the pale of the 
church ? If the bulk of mankind are to him 
estranged, what forbids him to " love the 
brotherhood ?" Alas! he is as much beset with 
difficulties in this narrower circle, as he was in 
the wider one ; or more so. The cause of these 
new embarrassments may readily be found. 
There is an essential difference between a per- 
fect science, which admits nothing but what is 
demonstrable ; and that sort of general, or 

u 2 



292 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



loosely compacted knowledge, even of the same 
subject, which may float at large among men. 
For while the latter allows of much variety and 
diversity of opinion, and admits many degrees of 
proficiency or advancement, the former is abso- 
lute and peremptory : it must be received entire, 
or rejected : it can no more grant indulgence to 
difference of opinion, than the elliptic arch can 
allow of a broken irregularity of line. 

Now while the generality of Christians, as 
they modestly pursue their different paths of 
Scriptural inquiry, are conscious, and are ready 
to confess, that it is but a portion of divine 
knowledge which they severally attain, and 
that therefore it is most reasonable to exercise 
toward each other the indulgence of which each 
will have need in his turn ; the professor of ab- 
stract or philosophical theology, challenges for 
his system the prerogatives of a finished science. 
In truth it were preposterous, on his part, to 
take lower ground. If fatalism, of any kind, is 
to be admitted, it must be yielded to because it 
is impossible to resist it. Seeing that the entire 
evidence of common experience, and the irresis- 
tible consciousness of men turns directly against 
any such doctrine, it can, of course, maintain its 
ground only by force of logic. Fatalism must 
needs be dogmatic and intolerant, if it would 
exist at all. 

In perfect consistency with his claim of in- 
fallibility, the theologue professes to have come 



THE MODERN ANCHORET. 



293 



into possession of his scheme of religion, not in 
the slow, painful, and uncertain method of an 
induction of principles from Scripture ; but by 
virtue of a privilege to clime the height of the 
Eternal throne ; by leave granted to look into the 
records of universal government ; and by having 
gained the apex of divine science, whence he can 
look down on all sides, and contemplate, at lei- 
sure, the great movements of the moral system. 
In fact, sophists of this class are perpetually 
ascending to universals, are always reaching 
the infinite, are taking position at the centre of 
truth. Their method is that of synthesis and 
comprehension ; not of analysis and induction. 
Hence results, by a natural consequence, the 
paucity and uniformity of their themes, and the 
monotony of their discourses. The higher circles 
of abstraction can admit of no copiousness or 
variety. 

But the special characteristic we have now to 
do with is that intolerance which, by an unavoid- 
able necessity, attends hyper-theology. In the 
reason of things it can allow of no freedom, no 
internal play of parts : it is iron-bound on every 
side : you must receive it as it is, or reject it : 
there can be no middle course. It were folly 
to talk of diversities of opinion, or shades of 
difference, in relation to that which, if it be not 
absolutely true, is utterly false. 

And then, because no two human minds can 
be brought into perfect unison, and because 



294 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



language, which is the vehicle of metaphysical 
dogmas, is a very faulty organ of conveyance, 
and moreover, because there will arise a thou- 
sand discordances of opinion when a system of 
abstract theology comes to be adjusted to the 
various and unanxious language of the inspired 
writers, therefore it happens, that the metaphy- 
sical theologue never finds one whom he can 
deem to have reached the very line of truth 
that trembles on perfection. There can be no 
space for brotherhood, in this region of points 
that have no extension. 

An appearance of exaggeration unavoidably 
attaches to every attempt to define and describe 
an abstract error like the one in question ; be- 
cause, in fixing and exposing the secret principle 
of such errors, and in marking them so distinctly 
as not to be afterwards confounded, we must 
affirm somewhat more than perhaps actually 
belongs to any single example of the sort. But 
the fair question returns — Have we, or not, de- 
tained and held in our grasp a real form of evil ? 
have we so gone about it as to fix its relative 
position, and to give it truly a name, and place, 
in our circle of ideas ? And is it true, or not, 
that there is found among us a religious system 
that is characteristically sullen, arrogant, intole- 
rant, exclusive ; a system that impels its adhe- 
rents to frown upon mankind at large, to refuse 
aid and fellowship in all labours of evangelical 
benevolence, and to denounce, as heretical, 



THE MODERN ANCHORET. 



295 



every cast of doctrine that does not reach a 
certain point of abstract perfection? Is there, 
we ask, among us, a doctrine which, beyond any 
other, is anti-social and uncharitable ? If not, 
we have been beating the air ; or if hyper-cal- 
vinisra be not that doctrine, we are chargeable 
with calumny. 

It need not be proved that Christianity is the 
religion of brotherhood, and of good-will to 
mankind at large. The inference only remains 
to be noted — that the doctrine we have spoken 
of is not Christianity. 



XIX. 



THE FAMILY AFFECTION OF 
CHRISTIANITY. 

" BE KINDLY AFFECTION ED ONE TO ANOTHER, WITH BRO- 
THERLY LOVE." 



The Christian sentiment of affection towards 
those whom we believe to be sharers with us 
in the hope of eternal life, and fellow-pilgrims 
through an unfriendly land to the same region 
of peace and joy, is of a peculiar kind; nor can 
it be strictly resembled to any feeling common to 
mankind. Nevertheless it has a near analogy to 
the love that cements the domestic relations ; 
and in comparing the one emotion, part by 
part, with the other, we shall gain a distinct 
idea, both of the approximation of the two, and 
of their difference. 

There meets us then, at the outset, that differ- 
ence between family affection and Christian love, 
which springs from the primary constituent of 
the latter — namely, the immeasurable importance 
with which Christianity invests every human 
being, and by which it incalculably enhances 
whatever affects his weal, or his moral condition. 



THE FAMILY AFFECTION OF CHRISTIANITY. 297 

The affections of earth, how vehement soever, 
are transitory, as itself : but the love which has 
become combined with the idea of immortality, 
is firm, profound, and indestructible. Atheism, 
in all its forms, desiccates the affections. To 
believe that man perishes in death, as the grass 
of the field, is to rob the benign emotions 
of all that distinguishes them from the grossest 
animal instincts. But on the contrary, when 
we so extend our conceptions of human nature 
as to embrace an unlimited futurity, we give, in 
the same proportion, force and enlargement to 
every feeling of which human beings are the 
objects. It is only in religion that may be found 
the true philosophy of love ; for love, apart 
from the belief of an after-state, has neither 
substance, nor purity. As matter of fact, it is 
certain that the faith of immortality, and the 
feeling of Christian love, are always in direct 
relation, one to the other, as to their intensity : 
if the one be in great force, the other is so : if 
in any age the first languishes, the second dis- 
appears. And, at any moment, if the belief of 
eternal life could be suddenly invigorated, the 
spirit of faction and jealousy would instantly be 
exhaled from the church; and of Christians it 
would once more be said — See how they love 
one another. 

In this primary element of Christian affec- 
tion, we find a reason sufficient to explain its 
comprehensiveness, and its universality, and its 



298 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



power of rising above those checks that might 
spring from the imperfection of individual cha- 
racter. The greater motive overpowers the less, 
in all the exercises of true love ; and in Christian 
love, when simple and sincere, it is much more 
so. The brightness of immortality obliterates 
fainter impressions ; and when any one is indeed 
believed to be a Christian, the idea of dignity 
that connects itself with that persuasion, out- 
weighs every other feeling. In each heir of 
heaven we see — heaven itself, more than the 
qualities or merits of him who is on the road 
thither : much in the same way as when some 
extraordinary occasion kindles the enthusiasm 
of an assembled nation, and the multitude, with 
joyous shouts is moving on, in procession ; the 
high-wrought patriotism that floats in the air, 
binds heart to heart, even among those who are 
personally strangers : every man, without ques- 
tion or scrutiny, grasps the hand of his neigh- 
bour, in frank and cordial good-will. 

No other principle can generate an emotion 
comparable to Christian love, for the plain rea- 
son that no other principle has at command so 
vast an idea as that of endless existence. It 
is by the means of this same element that the 
brotherly kindness taught by the Gospel arms 
itself against the disgusts and disappointments 
that will belong to whatever is human. Be it 
so, that the objects of our regard are ignorant 
(like ourselves) of much which it would well 



THE FAMILY AFFECTION OF CHRISTIANITY. 299 

befit them to know ; and be it also that the 
better and purer motives which work within 
them are (as with ourselves) much disturbed 
and thwarted by the unextinguished propensities 
of an evil nature. All this, or more, may be 
granted ; and although human virtue, in its best 
specimens, is infirm, and much sullied, it is 
nevertheless true that every Christian, because 
he is such, and whatever may be his relative 
excellence, is treading the ascent of wisdom 
and goodness, and shall at length, notwith- 
standing many delays and repulses, reach an 
elevation on that upward path where he shall 
fairly challenge all esteem. Yes, and it is true, 
that an era in his course shall arrive when 
supernal beings — themselves ancient proficients 
in virtue, shall count him their worthy com- 
panion, and delight in his converse. If it were 
only on the strength of such anticipations, he 
might now well command our regard, who are 
subject precisely to the same conditions, and 
have need of the same indulgence. 

Christian love has its most obvious analogy 
with the domestic affections in the sense of rela- 
tionship, as brethren, through one who is related 
equally to all, as Head. And yet the emotion 
we are treating of draws a peculiarity from the 
absence and invisibility of the Head of the 
family. There is a sense in which the mem- 
bers so represent the head, that He whom the 



300 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



mortal eye cannot discern, is brought, by their 
means, under the cognizance of sense. So far 
as Christians truly exhibit the characteristics of 
their Lord, in spirit and conduct, a vivid emo- 
tion is enkindled in other Christian bosoms, 
as if the bright Original of all perfection stood 
dimly revealed. This emotion, perhaps, would 
hardly be generated by a single instance, or by a 
very few instances of the temper and behaviour 
that become the Gospel ; for the divine image, 
in any single example, is too faint, or too much 
blemished, to bring with it forcibly the idea of 
the Supreme Excellence to which it is related. 
But in the multitude of instances there may 
clearly be seen a concurrence — a harmony and 
a convergence of evidence, such as leaves no 
doubt of the truth, that all are copies after the 
same pattern. The conclusion comes upon the 
mind with accumulated power, that we are not 
entertaining an illusion, while we believe that 
this family resemblance, this homogeneity of 
character, springs from a common centre, and 
that there exists, as its archetype, an invisible 
Personage, of whose glory all have in a measure 
partaken. The Christian brotherhood is therefore 
to each individual of the community {reK/xripLov) 
a sensible proof of the reality of his faith ; and 
each embraces all, not merely with affection ; 
but with that peculiar solicitude and satisfaction 
wherewith the soul, at all times, grasps an as- 
surance of the substantiality of its dearest hopes. 



THE FAMILY AFFECTION OF CHRISTIANITY. 301 



Christian love,, and the domestic affections, 
might very appropriately be compared on the 
ground of that enhancement which both receive 
from the assured and familiar knowledge that 
prevails within their respective circles, of the 
character and dispositions of each. It is not 
perhaps commonly considered how much the 
strength, permanence, and vivacity of love de- 
pend upon the simple circumstance of an inti- 
mate acquaintance with the spirit of its object — 
its habits, purposes, infirmities, burdens, sorrows. 
The very reverse of this might have been ima- 
gined, as more probable ; for it would have 
been natural to suppose that mankind, being- 
such as they are, mutual esteem and affection 
would have borne proportion directly to our 
ignorance one of another. But it is not so ; 
on the contrary, ignorance of each other's cha- 
racter, more than any other cause, represses 
the social sentiments, and checks every benign 
emotion. It does so, first, by giving room to 
suspicion, and to the chilling fear (a fear which 
pride enhances) of becoming the dupes of hypo- 
crisy ; and next, by depriving the imagination 
of its means of vividly conceiving of the actual 
feelings or sorrows of those around us ; and 
this lively impression is, by the laws of the 
human mind, indispensable to the vigorous 
movements of sympathy : that which the ima- 
gination does not realize, the heart does not 
heed. It is this principle that explains much 



302 



SATURDAY EVENINCx. 



of the apparent insensibility and indifference to 
the sufferings of others, which is shewn by the 
mass of mankind. 

But the intensity of love, and its tranquil 
permanence, most of all depend upon the ex- 
clusion of every lurking doubt concerning the 
secret dispositions or real sentiments of the 
objects of our regard. Now human nature is 
so mystical a thing, its external characteristics 
are so variable, or at least so intricate in their 
combinations, and the outward and ordinary 
symbols of inward emotion are so fine, or so 
fallacious, that nothing can give us the certain 
assurance we need, except the close and intimate 
familiarity of domestic life : and it is an admirable 
provision of the divine wisdom which affords us 
the opportunity of knowing best those whom we 
ought most to love and succour. The unlooked 
for incidents of family history, and its sudden 
excitements, and its arduous occasions, bring 
the individuals of the home circle within the 
sanctuary of each other's bosoms. And then, 
there is always going on in each mind an un- 
observed process of induction, wherein even the 
listless actions, and trivial expressions of every 
hour, go to form an estimate, in the mind of 
each, of the worth and quality of the others; 
until each feels that he has almost as perfect 
a knowledge of the heart of brother, sister, 
parent, child, husband, wife, as of his own. 
It is on the solid ground of this familiar 



THE FAMILY AFFECTION OF CHRISTIANITY. 303 

knowledge that the domestic affections take their 
tranquil standing; and unless the companions 
of our lives are absolutely unworthy of our love, 
or ourselves are incapable of pure and gene- 
rous emotions, we shall love them with more 
vivacity, and with more steadiness, w T hen the 
depth of their faults has been sounded, than we 
could while ignorance, mother of jealousy and 
fear, stood in the way between heart and heart. 
To harbour the thought that there is yet at all 
in the soul of one near to us a concealment we 
have not explored, is the same thing as to hold 
the whole of our affection in abevance. 

It is this home familiarity— this domestic per- 
fection of knowledge, that opens the sluices of 
sensibility, that vivifies every sympathy, that 
makes the sentient principle of each common 
to all, so as in a manner to blend identities, 
and to suffuse consciousness through the social 
body. The many become one by the mutuality 
of every power of enjoyment, and of suffering. 
Even in the most benevolent minds there is 
an instinctive revulsion from the sight of pain, 
which compels them to escape from the scene of 
woe, and which has to be overcome by higher 
motives. But in relation to those who are 
within the immediate circle of our affections, 
this instinct is not in operation ; or it gives way 
to an opposite impulse, which irresistibly detains 
us by the side of the object of our passionate 
fondness, in the hour of distress. This sympathy 



304 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



is little less than a perfect image, or counterpart 
of the sorrow or anguish that are its cause. 
Just as when the clear and glowing sunbeams of 
a sultry day fall upon the bosom of a reeking 
cloud, there is seen a second bow, embracing 
the first ; and it is hard to say whether the 
tender colours of the reflection are not as dis- 
tinct as those of the primary arch ; at least the 
one faithfully corresponds to the other. 

And now must we indeed run back to the first 
era of Christianity in search of illustrations of 
our parallel between Christian love and family 
affection ? Let it be granted that the diffusion 
of a lax or false profession of religion has, in 
a great degree, slackened the fervour of that 
brotherly kindness which the Gospel generates 
and enjoins ; for no one well knows who is 
indeed his brother in Christ. Nevertheless it 
is still true that this fruit of the Spirit is pro- 
duced, is ripened, is gathered, within the church. 
It is now, as always, true, that the Gospel so 
opens the heart of man to man, that the benign 
affections take their start at once from the van- 
tage ground of intimate acquaintance. It is 
true that Christians know each other in a sense 
altogether peculiar to Christianity. 

This affirmation may readily be made good. 
Man, while he continues unregenerate, does not 
know his brother, for this conclusive reason — 
that he does not know himself. The inbred 
infatuation which prevents his seeing his 



THE FAMILY AFFECTION OF CHRISTIANITY. 305 

relation to God, and his destination to another 
life, spreads itself as a spirit of blindness through 
his soul, and brings with it endless confusions 
and mistakes. Nothing of the inner world is 
simply and correctly understood : the heart is 
a maze of preposterous suppositions — the var- 
nished motives, and idle conceits of self-love. 
The world reflects itself on the mirror of the 
mind in distorted proportions, or appears in 
phantasm ; and the imagination, erroneously 
moved by these images of things unreal, or 
exaggerated, breeds an abundance of vanities. 
Moreover the conscience, turbid with hidden 
evils, and not appeased by the flattery itself 
prepares, refuses to have the abyss of the soul 
exposed and explored ; and the mind betakes 
itself to any diversion that may interrupt the 
dreaded inquiry. There is indeed a knowledge 
of the profundities of corruption which is called, 
knowledge of human nature ; but falsely so 
called ; for it is both incomplete, and extra- 
vagant ; it is satire, not truth ; it is palliation, 
not charity ; and while it imputes more evil in- 
tentions than actually exist, it puts a glozing of 
fair colours upon what is really odious. How 
should any one know and confide in another, who 
neither knows, nor heartily confides in himself? 

But the light that attends the entrance of the 
divine word diffuses itself through all conceal- 
ments of the heart. The motive of secrecy being 
destroyed, nothing can long remain hidden, and 

x 



30G 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



the new ingenuousness that has been imparted, 
and which has issued in an unfeigned confession 
of guilt, becomes, more or less, the habit of the 
mind. Pride, heretofore faithful guardian of the 
evil arcana of the soul, is expelled from his trust, 
and made to leave all things open to scrutiny. 
The time is the time of inquiry, and of judg- 
ment ; and the result is that peace and con- 
fidence — that stillness of the spirit, which is 
never enjoyed until the heart of man has dealt 
righteously with itself. 

Now it is manifest that whoever has in this 
manner come into familiarity with himself, has, 
by the same means, obtained a way of access to 
the heart of those whom he believes to have 
reached the same point of self-knowledge. The 
hidden world has been explored by both parties; 
and many thick clouds of doubt and suspicion 
are rolled away from between two spirits, each 
of which has become permeable to the same 
beams of light. The Christian, in meeting his 
fellow Christian, tacitly says, This is one who 
knows himself — has made frank confession of 
his hidden faults — has renounced the pride of 
concealment, and sincerely invites the eye of 
God, and of his brethren. We may differ much 
in temperament; and may have run through a 
different course ; but the conclusion we have 
reached is substantially the same ; nor does 
his heart contain any capital or ruling motive 
with which mine can have no sympathy. Thus 



THE FAMILY AFFECTION OF CHRISTIANITY. 307 

are the tedious and uncertain preliminaries of 
worldly friendship abridged, or superseded, and 
the path at once laid open to the kindliness of 
affection. 

Moreover, on this same principle of the effi- 
cacy of knowledge to enhance mutual love, the 
affection of Christians, one for the other, derives 
freedom and force from that simplification of mo- 
tives which genuine piety produces. The love 
of God is a paramount affection, forcibly car- 
rying in its train other inclinations, and leading 
captive a host of petty and ephemeral desires. 
This is the meaning of that axiom — " Ye must, 
to enter the kingdom of heaven, become as little 
children." Simplicity of spirit, singleness of in- 
tention, harmony and unison of all emotions, is 
the law of the heavenly world, and must belong, 
in measure, to all who claim part therein. 
Anarchy of the passions may not be allowed in 
the bosom that is to lodge the Divine Spirit; 
and it is always true that where Omnipotent 
Grace takes possession of a human heart, it 
expels in its very entrance the legion of lawless 
desire. The Christian, therefore, conscious as 
he is in himself of this new simplification of his 
own motives, imputes it without fear to every 
one whom he believes also to be a Christian. 
Thus again the familiarity of mutual knowledge 
is attained by the riddance that is made of the 
crowd of inferior principles. The dark surmises 
and threatening storms of ordinary friendship 

x2 



308 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



are scattered as the gales of spring drive away 
the vapours and congelations of winter. 

But this is not all ; for the love that is 
founded on knowledge must have its delicacy, 
and its peculiarity, arising from the individual 
sentiments and personal interests of the parties. 
And it is so in Christian love ; for while the 
great motives of the Gospel reduce the mul- 
tiplicity and confusion of the passions by their 
commanding force, they do, by the very same 
energy, expand all sensibilities ; or (if we might 
so speak) send the pulse of life with vigour 
through the finer vessels of the moral system : 
there is far less apathy, and a far more equable 
consciousness in the mind after it has admitted 
Christianity, than before ; and, by necessary con- 
sequence, there is more individuality, because 
more life. Christians, therefore, while they un- 
derstand each other better than other men do, 
possess a greater stock of sentiment to make 
the subject of converse than others. The com- 
parison of heart with heart knits heart to heart, 
and communicates to friendship very much that 
is sweet and intense. 

The domestic affections derive a good part 
of their power, as well as constancy, from the 
recollection that the ties of nature are indis- 
soluble ; and again, from this feeling, there 
springs another, which, when love is genuine, 
acquires intensity of force. The property of 



THE FAMILY AFFECTION OF CHRISTIANITY. 309 

this emotion is to reject, with agony, the supposi- 
tion of final separation, even at the most distant 
period. We have already observed, and it is 
an important truth, that the immortal instincts 
of the human spirit — its destination to a future 
life, are brought out into activity by the social 
sentiments ; and no one will question it who 
has indeed known the tenderness and vivacity of 
love. The beneficent intentions of the Author of 
our nature are eminently seen in this part of our 
moral constitution. The social affections have a 
precarious season of growth, during which they 
are exposed to much injury, or sometimes to 
absolute extinction, from the disgusts, indis- 
cretions, and caprices, that, even in the most 
favourable instances, infest the family circle ; 
and if it were not for the appointment of God, 
and the usages of society, which cement the 
domestic body, nothing would be more frequent 
than eruptions of passion such as would in a mo- 
ment scatter and desolate families. To the 
binding force of the ties of nature, society at 
large owes its order and repose, even in the ab- 
sence of love, or when it has little influence. 
But on those sunny spots where the tender 
emotions bloom and reach their perfection, the 
indissoluble bond — not at all felt as a yoke, is 
regarded with delight ; and the sentiment con- 
nected with it is fondly cherished, as if it afforded 
security both against the chances of fortune and 
the power of the grave. - We are one — for 



310 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



ever one! neither the storms of life, nor the 
hand of death, shall part us ! ■ Such is always 
the fond emphatic language of true love. 

The analogy holds good in Christian affec- 
tion, notwithstanding that the comprehensiveness 
of this emotion, or its partition among many 
objects, abates proportionately, at present, its 
intensity. But the future life may raise it to the 
highest imaginable degree of force. 

The relative condition of the Christian body, 
as hitherto it has existed in the world, gives 
it always much of the feeling that belongs to a 
family, or a small and distinct community, barely 
tolerated, and unkindly received, in a foreign 
land. Everywhere a minority, and everywhere, 
if not outraged, scorned; yet holding in common 
a bright hope which the mass of mankind treats 
with contempt, Christians (in proportion to the 
vivacity of their faith) cannot but cling together 
as partners in obloquy and danger. This feeling 
may distinctly be seen in operation, even where 
external circumstances most tend to repress it ; 
nor is there any sphere within which spiritually- 
minded persons do not feel that they need each 
other's aid and affection as a support against 
the hostility that surrounds them. It is no 
misanthropic sentiment that compels them to 
close their ranks, and present a front of defence 
against the malignant crowd that hems them in. 
" Behold," said their Lord, " I send you forth 
as sheep among wolves;" nor has any age yet 



THE FAMILY AFFECTION OF CHRISTIANITY. 311 

passed over the church, without affording ex- 
emplification of the truth thus emphatically 
conveyed. 

And moreover, Christians, when vividly im- 
pressed with the momentous facts on which 
their faith is fixed, are conscious of their part- 
nership in the awful transactions of the invisible 
world. The men whose thoughts are bounded 
by the present life, hurry along upon the broad 
way of pleasure and business, exchanging, as 
they go, the trivial courtesies of the moment ; 
but mutually indifferent, as those must needs 
be, who soon are to part, by plunging, severally 
and alone, into the shoreless oblivion of death. 
Not so the followers of Christ. They stand in 
close order, as a phalanx that has yet a foe to 
meet, a victory to achieve, and a triumph to 
enjoy. A common solicitude, and a common 
hope, bind their hearts together. Death divides 
them, but it is only as the successive ranks of 
a host are divided, when summoned, in turn, 
to advance and pass singly a perilous defile. 
Beyond that strait of momentary gloom and 
danger, all are again to be marshalled ; and every 
one to join his commander. Christian affection 
has, therefore, the permanency it derives from 
an indissoluble bond ; the vigour given it by 
a participation in sufferings and reproaches ; and 
the depth it receives from the prospect of an 
unbounded futurity. 



312 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



And may we not (adhering still to sound 
principles of calculation) look even into that 
futurity, and imagine faintly the enhancement 
which shall be given to principles now in their 
stage of germination ? Let it then be remem- 
bered that, to remove from any energy its anta- 
gonist, is the same thing as to impart to it a 
new force. Only remove from the affections 
of earth all dregs of malignity, all chills of 
apathy, all suspicions, all indiscretions, all errors 
in matters of fact, and all oppositions of interest, 
and how brightly would they burn ! Yet Heaven 
shall actually effect this liberation of love from 
its thraldoms. Nor is this all ; for if love is to 
get purity and elevation from its expansion or 
enlargement, it must owe its intensity to its 
direction towards specific objects ; and it may 
well be conceived that when the ransomed 
myriads of mankind shall come to take their 
station in the great circle of a far larger and 
more ancient community, and shall, in degree, 
be blended in the universal family of Heaven, 
a fresh sanction shall be given to the relation- 
ship that originated on earth ; that the progeny 
of Adam, yes, and much more, the brethren of 
the Second Adam, the Lord from heaven, shall 
be bound together anew, in office, neighbour- 
hood, and destiny ; so that the fondness of a tie 
strictly indissoluble shall be communicated to 
the affections that were formed in their primeval 
abode. 



THE FAMILY AFFECTION OF CHRISTIANITY. 313 

Not improbably, if we regard the great laws 
of the world of mind, the speciality as well as 
the universality of love shall have place in the 
future economy ; and the personal tenderness 
of immemorial attachment shall go along with 
all spirits through interminable eras. The re- 
deemed of the earth, known perhaps on all the 
plains of joy, and at once distinguishable, by 
the specific contour of their celestial forms, shall 
be companions of eternity. May we not then, 
while forgetting the imperfections, and the ob- 
scurity, and the feebleness, that attach to this 
present wintry season of the heart, fairly impute 
to our Christian friendships a value drawn from 
the treasures of futurity ? This at least is cer- 
tain, how much soever we may err in matters 
of particular conjecture, that, while earth and 
its ephemeral interests are hastening to oblivion, 
whatever is divine, whatever partakes of the 
nature of the immutable attributes of God, must 
be indestructible, and must grow until it attains 
perfection. Every article of human knowledge 
may be deemed untrue, sooner than this — That 
Love is of God, and shall never fail. 



XX. 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 

" FOR MEAT DESTROY NOT THE WORK OF GOD." 



While looking on the one side of human 
nature, we are too often impelled to believe 
that the principle of conscience is, of all the 
powers that have any influence over the conduct 
of men, the most lax, nugatory, and ineffi- 
cacious : but then, if we turn to another side, 
it as often appears peremptory, intractable and 
stubborn. In those matters of morality, for 
example, which are comprehended under the 
heads of justice, temperance, moderation, and 
mercy, it seems as if human ingenuity were 
never to be baffled in its attempts to reconcile 
the impulses of appetite, or the suggestions of 
interest, with the dictates of conscience ; or, in 
other words, as if conscience were the most 
bland and compliant of all authorities. Yet how 
can we grant it this praise when we see with 
what rigour, with what precision, with what 
sternness, this same dictator gives sentence in 
questions relating to the doctrine, or the ritual — 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 



315 



to the substance or the forms — the theory, or 
the polity of religion ? It is as if the word Con- 
science were the appellative of two unconnected 
personages, of whom the one is as austere as the 
other is indulgent. 

But it is not so. Man, with all his incon- 
sistencies, has but one faculty, or sense of right 
and wrong. Nor is the supposition of sarcastic 
and irreligious men well founded, who, in con- 
templation of such facts, draw the caustic con- 
clusion — That the severity of conscience, in 
matters of religion, is proved to be hypocrisy, 
by its laxity in matters of morality ; or that 
there can be nothing sincere in the zeal and 
scrupulosity of those who shew themselves far 
from punctilious in the simple and intelligible 
instances of common life — in fair dealing, truth, 
or purity. But there is as much of rude in- 
accuracy, as of malice, in decisions of this 
sort ; and if those who thus give judgment 
upon their fellow-men, and who ordinarily pride 
themselves not a little upon their penetra- 
tion, could only see somewhat deeper beneath 
the surface of human motives, they would 
stand convicted, as much of ignorance as of 
harshness. 

The human mind, even in the best samples, 
is far from being equally quick, or sensitive, 
in all its faculties ; or equally sentient towards 
all the objects that are presented to it : and 
if we might adopt any general rule, by means 



316 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



of which to foreknow when, or on what occa- 
sions, the intellectual and moral powers will 
be alive, and when inert, or torpid, it might 
perhaps be this — That they are stimulated 
most certainly, and most instantaneously, by 
what is definite ; and less so by whatever is 
vague, or indistinct. Now, if we exclude from 
our account, instances of absolute knavery and 
hypocrisy, it will be found that religious persons 
are in fault, a hundred instances to one, in those 
multifarious matters of imperfect obligation, as 
they have been termed, to which the rules of 
right and wrong are not readily applicable, and 
which come under the jurisdiction only of pure 
and elevated habits of feeling. But the re- 
ligious man is not justly to be condemned as 
a knave, or hypocrite, because he has made 
small advances in the higher morality of the 
spiritual life. Yet it is precisely the obtuseness, 
shall we say the vulgarity, of his soul, that 
leaves him liable to commit hourly offences 
against the maxims of honour, kindness, can- 
dour, or personal virtue. And if the interior of 
his heart could be exposed, it would probably 
not exhibit any very vivid sense of culpability 
on such occasions ; nothing, in fact, but a con- 
fused consciousness of having been too little on 
his guard against a besetting sin. Nay, such 
persons will often be found (from the want 
of efficient instruction in matters of morality) 
altogether unconscious of the evil of certain 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 



317 



habits and practices, which expose them to the 
most grave imputations. 

Meanwhile the case is quite otherwise in 
reference to points of theology, or to questions 
of ritual, or polity. And on this ground, beside 
that the matters in debate have all the distinct- 
ness which the anxiety of sacred logic, or which 
the synodic wisdom of statutes and canons can 
secure to them, they are imagined (by a most 
strange perversion of right reason) to stand 
much more closely related to the Divine autho- 
rity, than do the articles of vulgar morality : as 
if God, notwithstanding His solemn affirmation 
of the contrary, were far more intent upon the 
accuracy of creeds, and the legality of rites, 
than upon the observance of the rules of virtue. 
Belief and worship are things of Religion ; and 
therefore more sacred than justice, truth, and 
temperance! This has been, in all ages, the 
current delusion of religionists. 

Every man's style, or rate of morality, at any 
given period of his life, is the slowly ripened 
product of his entire course up to that moment, 
influenced, as it has been, by personal tempera- 
ment, by secular engagements, by social alliances ; 
and especially, by the salubrity, or the infected 
condition, of the moral atmosphere he has 
breathed. Now it is not of a product so gra- 
dually formed, so intimately related to the habits 
of the soul, and so familiar to it, that ordinary 
minds are qualified to form an impartial estimate. 



318 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



In fact very few men judge themselves, on the 
several points of morality, with any high degree 
of precision, or fairness. And then, if we are 
speaking of the religious, the eager discussions 
that are always rife in the Church on articles 
of belief, or ceremony, engross all the attention 
that is at command ; so that little or no leisure 
is found for entertaining the comparatively vapid 
questions of right and wrong, in the things of 
common life. No energy of mind, no zeal, is 
directed towards subjects of this class ; they are 
therefore but too indistinctly discerned by the 
generality of good folks. 

Yet this want of vigour in the moral life is 
not hypocrisy, is not knavery ; and is perfectly 
consistent, not only with general sincerity in 
religion, but with a vivid and honest zeal for 
what is deemed " divine truth," and " divine 
authority," in the creed, and the ritual. 

The minds of men are alive, to the extent of 
the particular excitements that are acting upon 
them ; and when the principle of conscience, 
and the sentiment of public consistency, or 
party obligation, are called into activity on 
some special question, all the religious emotion 
of which the individual is susceptible draws 
towards it, as a centre ; and the man's piety, 
entire, just goes to fill out that circle of con- 
troversy. It is when the mind is in this state, 
that there takes place an opposition between 
the two principles which ought always to 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 



319 



harmonize — namely, love toward the brother- 
hood, and zeal and fidelity towards God, and his 
truth. In too many instances the latter motive, 
misdirected, prevails over the former ; the defi- 
nite over the indefinite obligation ; and, as an 
inevitable consequence, rancour, maledictions, 
and schisms, burst out, and devastate the pre- 
cincts of celestial peace. 

It is very true, and should never be forgotten, 
that the factions which have divided the Chris- 
tian body, have owed their vivacity, and aspe- 
rity, to the ill tempers, or the ambition, of a 
few individuals — those demagogues and fanatics 
whom the Scripture designates as grievous 
wolves. But it is not less true, although less 
regarded, that religious discords have always 
rested upon the broader foundation of a mis- 
taken, or ill-informed conscientiousness, on the 
part of the people at large. Without this firm 
bottom, factions quickly become mere personal 
feuds, and die away, and are forgotten in a 
summer. The heresiarch well understands this 
principle, and acts upon it advisedly. To make 
himself simply, or his personal interests, or 
credit, the object of popular zeal, were an enter- 
prise that must soon fall to the ground. So 
must the attempt to keep malign passions in a 
state of irritation without a specious occasion. 
The ' ' truth of God " is to be asserted, and 
defended, at all risks ; and " the enemies 



320 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



of Heaven/' the contumacious impugners of 
" Divine authority," are to be cursed, avoided, 
extirpated ! 

We do little if we just depict and inveigh 
against the temper and proceedings of the few 
fanatical agitators. Such men would have no 
influence at all, if they did not find the means 
of pending upon certain powerful motives, com- 
mon to human nature, and peculiarly vigorous 
when animated by religious ideas. We ought 
therefore to endeavour to follow home the prin- 
ciple, upon the working of which the spiritual 
demagogue calculates, and upon which the 
stress of his power rests. He breeds animosity 
among brethren, and brings the worst of all 
scandals upon Christianity ; but he does so only 
by putting into activity a motive which all must 
confess to be, when well employed, not only 
lawful, but indispensable as an element of 
piety — namely, zeal for the purity of faith, and 
the authority of Christ. Here then one sound 
principle is seen to overpass and trample upon 
another. The two are waging war, and the one 
triumphs by the destruction of the other. But 
so deplorable a contrariety can never have taken 
place without the previous admission of some 
capital error. Our question then is, Where 
does it lie ; and what is its definition ? 

Nothing in Christianity is more conspicuous 
(nay, it is the one conspicuous article from 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 



321 



which the whole system derives its character) 
than that Christians are to love each other un- 
feignedly, as brethren ; and moreover are to live 
in the constant interchange of the outward and 
visible tokens of affection. This being an abso 
lute rule,, there must exist a capital fault, on 
one side, or both, of every controversy, when 
it is violated. But it is also true that every 
Christian is required, as the test of his alle- 
giance to Christ, to be ready always without 
fear, favour, or calculation of personal conse- 
quences, to profess and defend what he believes 
to be the Divine Will in matters of belief and 
practice : in other words, that, in the things 
of religion, he should maintain fealty to God, 
at whatever cost or risk of things temporal. 
Now in the actual state of the world, and of 
religious profession, it must often happen that 
the Christian's fidelity to his Lord will place 
him in opposition (not to say hostility) to the 
great body of those who call themselves by the 
same sacred name. Such occasions seem to 
bring into contrariety the two great principles 
of Love and Fidelity : at least they demand a 
special exercise of discretion in order to prevent 
the clashing of the two. 

Or a case of another sort may easily arise, 
namely — that of individuals, or of small bodies, 
who, in much seriousness, and with entire sin- 
cerity, having unfortunately adopted an initial 
erroneous position, from which they correctly 

Y 



322 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



derive inferences that would be quite valid if 
their first principle were sound, are drawn on 
to think themselves obliged, both to denounce 
the body of Christians as grievously corrupted in 
doctrine, and to separate themselves from their 
fellowship. Such individuals, or parties, may 
fully persuade themselves that, any longer to 
associate with the Church at large, would be to 
violate their consciences. In instances of this 
kind we have the double mischief of schism, and 
of schism without occasion : a feud is generated, 
with all its inseparable virulence; but it is a feud 
devoid of reason ; it is therefore an evil not 
compensated by any beneficial result ; it is not 
remedial — not conservative : and yet has it 
sprung in its first movement from a sound prin- 
ciple; and moreover the authors of it are men 
sincere and devout. Where then is the false 
assumption, or false inference, by means of which 
evil has derived itself from good ? It would be 
well indeed if this could be ascertained. 

No shadow of ambiguity can rest upon the 
course to be pursued by one who receives, either 
great religious principles, or particular instruc- 
tions, immediately from Heaven, in the way of 
unquestionable miraculous interposition, and 
who is commanded to promulgate what he has 
so learned. Whoever bears a commission of 
this sort, may calmly discharge his duty, and 
leave consequences to the disposal of Him who 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 323 

has foreseen every contingency This being 
obvious, it seems not less so, that the absence of 
miraculous attestations ought to make some dif- 
ference in the conduct, or at least in the style, 
of those who, within the pale of the church, go 
about to announce new truths, or to enforce 
novel practices, or to condemn that which 
exists. If the man who derives his peculiar 
religious opinions simply (and by his own con- 
fession) from his personal study of the Scriptures, 
and who has enjoyed none but ordinary aids, 
and who can advance no pretension which other 
men may not also challenge, is entitled to speak 
in the tone, and to exercise the authority of a 
prophet or apostle, then what necessity was there 
for the extraordinary powers wherewith prophets 
and apostles were endowed ? Or to view the 
matter on another side ; it is evident that there 
can be no right of speaking and acting, in the 
name of Heaven, which does not imply a cor- 
relative duty, on the part of the people, to yield 
submission to such authority. But the church 
will then often be placed in the dilemma of 
having its submission demanded by hostile 
teachers — a dilemma which has never attended 
the ministry of men who indeed confirmed their 
testimony by miracles. 

We should not for a moment hold controversy 
with the originator of a separate communion 
on the question whether he ought or not to 

y2 



324 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



promulgate the will of Christ — when he knows it; 
and to challenge the obedience of all men to that 
will. This duty is granted ; but we may surely 
ask him to exhibit his credentials. We shall be 
the first to submit to his dictation, the first to 
become his sectarists, when we have actually 
seen the seal of heaven in his hand, and are satis- 
fied on the capital point of his divine legation. 

Times of extraordinary fanatical excitement 
excepted, the leaders of sects do not allow to 
themselves the use of language which, by its 
arrogance, would supply its own refutation. 
But the occult and fundamental principle, as well 
of ecclesiastical despotism on the one side, as of 
factious separation on the other — of all religious 
rancour and hostility, whether it be avowed or 
not, is this assumption of Divine authority on 
behalf of what is simply an individual opinion. 
' I think so,' is the whole residuum that can 
be found after evaporating the prodigious pre- 
tensions of the zealot-demagogue. What is 
this ' will of the Lord' — this 6 authority of 
Heaven' — this ' sacred cause of truth and 
righteousness V Nothing, absolutely nothing 
more than — I think so. Strip the schismatic's 
declamation of its finery and its sublimity, of 
its thunder and its fire, and there remains just 
this meagre, and scarcely visible particle, the 
intrinsic value of which it would be impossible 
to express. 

Yet no delusion is more natural, or more 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 



325 



easily fallen into, or more hard to be dissipated, 
than that of the sincere and devout, though 
arrogant dogmatist, who persuades himself, and 
others, to feel, and to speak, and to act, with 
more confidence and intolerance than those ever 
showed who were intrusted with the power of 
raising the dead. The enthusiasm and the spirit 
of exaggeration which attend always a long-con- 
tinued and exclusive attention to a single subject, 
and which, so often, render the mathematician, 
the physiologist, the artist, or the man of letters, 
absurd, are incalculably enhanced by the more 
profound emotions that belong to religion. Now 
although this feeling of the infinite importance 
of religious truth is perfectly reasonable when 
religious truth in the aggregate is its object, and 
can never become exorbitant when any one of 
the great principles of faith is in question, it is 
ineffably preposterous when attached to the 
private expositions of this or that individual. 
The dogmatist is not wrong in believing and 
affirming, that the pure sense of the Inspired 
Writings is of more price than much fine gold ; 
nor wrong in bestowing his zealous labours upon 
the worthy employment of seeking to obtain this 
pure sense ; nor wrong in giving utterance to 
the results of his studies and prayers ; and 
whoever would interrupt him, or dare to restrain 
him in the promulgation of his opinions, is 
guilty of the most atrocious of all outrages. 
But alas! it is neither the private and personal 



326 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



enjoyment of the true sense of Scripture, that 
contents the dogmatist ; nor the full liberty 
to prosecute his inquiries ; nor the unbounded 
tolerance of his public labours. None of these 
things satisfy his zeal ; nor is the fervour of his 
spirit at all assuaged by, what one would think, 
the pleasing spectacle of the general church, 
although erroneous, as he affirms, in particulars, 
yet possessed of the fundamental principles of 
piety. All this is as nothing, so long as sub- 
mission is withheld to his exposition, which is 
indeed — c The sense of Scripture/ 

To allay in some measure the uneasiness which 
the obstinacy and contumacy of the Christian 
world occasions him, the dogmatist first enhances, 
by all means, his own inward conviction of the 
truth of his doctrine ; and for this purpose he 
has recourse to the excitements of devotion, as 
well as to the corroboration of argument. Then 
he surrounds himself with coadjutors (flatterers if 
he can) and after kindling the lights of their 
zeal from his own candle, comforts himself in 
the general warmth thus produced. Further- 
more he confirms both his faith and his courage, 
by uttering aloud his contempt and condemnation 
of all gainsayers ; and lastly, to prove ostensibly 
the depth and sincerity of his convictions, he 
cuts himself off from the corrupt body of the 
church ; and solemnly turning to the train of his 
adherents, says, e Come out, and touch not the 
unclean.' 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 



327 



But it will be said ; and we would not wait to 
be reminded of the fact — That there is a proba- 
bility, perhaps a high probability, that the man 
whom we have termed a dogmatist, and spoken 
of with reprobation, is one whom the Lord has 
taught, and sent forth, to inveigh against pre- 
vailing corruptions. Was not Wickliffe such ? 
Were not Huss, and Luther, such ? Or if we 
were to pass by the few signal instances, con- 
cerning which no dispute can well arise, let 
what may be called the average probability, in 
the case of the reformer, and the innovator, be 
thus stated — That he has got possession of some 
single truths, more or less important, which the 
church has forgotten, or discarded, and which 
he asserts ; but in doing so, mingles with them 
a considerable proportion of mere extravagance 
and folly. Even the illustrious Chiefs of refor- 
mation must take their share in such an acknow- 
ledgment ; much more the host of less noble 
innovators. 

Now if we are to speak of this ordinary case, 
as it stands between the general body of Chris- 
tians, and the man who denounces particular 
errors; it is quite plain that an adherence, on 
his part, to the modest course of plainly de- 
claring his opinion, and quietly setting forth the 
reasons of it ; and entreating the attention of his 
brethren, promises to be productive of as much 
good as is likely to result from his petulant sepa- 
ration. If indeed the general body will not 



32S 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



tolerate any such expression of private opinion, 
if it attempts to impose silence upon him, and 
to crush him ; if, in the true spirit of obdurate 
folly, it will " hear no reproofs," and casts forth 
the troublesome member ; then the whole blame 
of division rests with the body, not with the dis- 
sident individual. The church is the Schismatic, 
when it has no ear, and no indulgence, for diver- 
sities of sentiment. 

But, in the great majority of instances 
which church history presents, the leader of 
faction has not asked — has not seemed to 
wish for the sort of indulgence that would 
imply, on his part, a corresponding modesty and 
moderation. He demands unconditional sub- 
mission to the points he insists on, as if he 
could claim divine authority for each article of 
his private creed. Arid indeed this supposition 
runs through all his ideas, inflates all his lan- 
guage, exaggerates the whole of his behaviour, 
stiffens his inflexibility, and animates his courage 
in suffering. 

Is it denied that the dogmatic sectarist ordina- 
rily assumes any such divine authority to attach 
to his peculiar opinions ? He is, we grant, rarely 
guilty of so much presumption in explicit words. 
Nevertheless he proceeds as far in act as he 
could do if every syllable of his creed had been 
authenticated by signs from heaven. First he 
scorns and lays aside the modest phraseology of 
one who simply declares a private and questionable 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 



329 



opinion, and as modestly shews his reasons. 
Prophets and apostles have done no more than 
thus use the absolute style of infallible know- 
ledge. Then he excommunicates all who do 
not submit to his peculiar notions, and declares 
them unworthy of his fellowship. What more 
than this could be done by him who said — "If 
I come, I will give a proof of Christ speaking in 
me ? " Those numerous passages of Scripture 
which at once enjoin mutual forbearance, and 
forbid division on any points not manifestly 
essential to Christian belief, are so thoroughly 
perspicuous, that, being confessedly of divine 
authority, they must demand nothing less than 
an equally clear announcement from the same 
source, to abrogate or hold them in abeyance. 
Whoever therefore does so treat them as a 
nullity, virtually pretends to an unquestionable 
conveyance of the divine will to himself in that 
particular. 

The will of Christ is — That his followers, not- 
withstanding many diversities of opinion, should 
remain in love and communion. Whoever then, 
on pretence of obedience to Christ, breaks up 
this communion, assumes to himself a direct 
commission from Heaven to that effect. The 
prohibition of church divisions is as explicit and 
intelligible as the prohibition of murder ; and if 
a miraculous attestation must be demanded of 
the manslayer who violates the one, so must it 
of the separatist who contemns the other. This 



330 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



principle is in fact tacitly acknowledged, and has 
always been assumed, on both sides of religious 
discords : the despotic holders of ecclesiastical 
power, in their persecutions, and the separatists 
in their resistance and remonstrance, have, in 
every case, claimed for their doctrine and prac- 
tice the weight of Divine Authority. 

The world (and the church too) is incalcu- 
lably indebted for the degree of repose that is 
actually enjoyed, to the conservative inertness 
of the human mind, which holds it always far 
short of the goal of extravagance whereto other- 
wise it would often run. And both are, to the 
same effect, indebted to those motives of inte- 
rest and fear, which hush evil passions more 
effectually than reason or humanity could do ; 
and, once more, to that under-current of com- 
mon sense, which sets strongly athwart the 
course of agitators, and gives a great degree of 
steadiness to the general movements of the social 
system. What would man be if it were not for 
his happy inconsistencies ? What, if he fulfilled 
every hasty resolution, and acted in entire accord- 
ance with every abstract principle ? 

The peace of the church (it is to be feared) 
is attributable almost as much to the sedative 
causes we have just named, as to the operation 
of better principles. It is manifest that if every 
Christian followed up, completely, the doctrine 
advanced to justify separation on secondary 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 



331 



points, every Christian must be, a church to 
himself; at once, the teacher, and the taught. 
With a volume in his hand so large and mul- 
tifarious as the Bible, an ancient book too, 
known only by interpretation, a book which 
contains, as history, very much that is not rule 
or code ; with such a book in his hand, and 
with his ignorance, his inclinations, and his 
fancy, as his assessors in judgment, what would 
be the consequence if every one actually attri- 
buted to the whole of his sense of the meaning 
of Scripture, the solemn authority and import- 
ance which, as Sectarist, he attributes to cer- 
tain points of it ? And yet he would be much 
perplexed if required to shew why certain pri- 
vate interpretations, whereof he says little or 
nothing, should not have as much honour done 
them as those other points that divide him from 
the communion of the general church. He 
would probably reply — These are nothing more 
than my private opinions, concerning which it 
becomes me to be very diffident. And what 
more or better are those matters of strife which 
distinguish his sect? They are precisely — pri- 
vate opinions, concerning which it does indeed 
behove him to be very diffident ; unless he is 
prepared to claim for them the sanction of 
immediate revelation. Let him but narrowly sift 
his ideas, and he will certainly find that the opi- 
nions of which he speaks with caution, and for 
the sake of which he would shudder to break 



332 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



communion with his friends, differ absolutely in 
nothing (but their subject) from those other 
articles which, by some fatality, have come to be 
inscribed in crimson letters upon the banners of 
faction. Nevertheless the awe and power of the 
Divine sanction have been arbitrarily attached to 
the one set of interpretations, and not to the 
other. He may perhaps persuade himself that 
the opinions which make him a sectarist have 
stronger evidence than those which he holds 
in silence ; but he will be compelled, in many 
instances at least, to confess that this is not the 
fact. Or he may allege that the one are intrin- 
sically more important than the other. But 
here again he would find himself grievously 
embarrassed if urged to establish the nice 
point of relative value in matters of doctrine 
or practice. 

The plain fact is, that the course of events, 
political and ecclesiastical, the progress or de- 
pression of religious knowledge, at different eras; 
and, not least, the intellectual peculiarities and 
passions of some few prominent individuals, have 
combined to bring under discussion, as it were 
by chance, particular interpretations of Scrip- 
ture; leaving in the shade innumerable other 
points which might as well have been thrown 
upon the stage of strife ; while to the one, and 
not to the other, though all are alike precious 
as portions of the same Revelation, there has 
been attributed the authority of God, so that it 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 



333 



became matter of conscience to insist upon them, 
as conditions of fellowship. 

But it is a truth never to be lost sight of, that 
sectarianism is always what ecclesiastical despo- 
tism makes it. This has found its verification in 
our own country ; nor is there any general prin- 
ciple, perhaps, that more urgently demands, at 
the present moment, the attentive consideration 
of enlightened and liberal minds. Let it be 
granted that, both in the order of nature, and 
the order of time (to use a scholastic distinction) 
the sectarist moves before the despot ; or that 
the former is the originator of church feuds. 
We will grant this, although instances might be 
adduced that have quite a contrary aspect — just 
as the petulance and rigour of a father is often 
the first cause of rebellion in his family. But 
let the concession be assumed as true ; it may 
still safely be affirmed that the lust of spiritual 
domination — foul passion, enormous crime ! has 
imparted almost all the mischievous force it has 
actually exerted to religious factions. Thus the 
explosion of combustible matter is rendered fatal 
by confinement and compression. 

Among the many evil consequences, too many 
to be soon enumerated, of that most flagitious 
of all outrages — the outrage committed by 
ecclesiastical power upon the souls of men, 
the one we have now to do with peculiarly 
claims to be noticed, inasmuch as it especially 
affects the spirit of religious parties in the 



334 



SATURDAY EVENING, 



British empire ; nor only so, but has needlessly 
transmitted its agency to the new world, where 
it can have no pretence for exerting any in- 
fluence, 

The despotism of the Romish Church — a 
despotism which, without any heat, or improper 
extension of the meaning of words, may be 
called Diabolical, was indeed successfully with- 
stood ; and yet was not discerned, or for its own 
sake abhorred, by the Reformers. They fought 
the tyranny of Rome ; but they fought not with 
spiritual tyranny in the abstract. That same 
church-usurpation, headed up during the course 
of many silent ages to a prodigious height, 
within the Papal enclosure, broke as a deluge 
over all the ground of the Reformed Church, 
and filled, to the brim, every cavity of the 
foundations on which the new structures were 
to be reared. The enemy of mankind consoled 
himself under the loss of so many fair provinces 
and kingdoms of his visible empire, by contem- 
plating the extension, through every one of 
those dissevered realms, of the first principle of 
the ancient corruption ; and less than satanic 
sagacity might foresee that, church tyranny — 
pure or impure in creed and worship, would soon 
bring true religion again to its lowest ebb. 

The transferred spirit of despotism, which 
was allowed to animate the whole of our new 
and reformed ecclesiastical institutions, encoun- 
tered at once, as was inevitable among a 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 



335 



people like the natives of the British soil, when 
quickened by knowledge and piety, an uncon- 
querable resistance. Let every nation of the 
continent bow, one after another, and kiss again 
that iron sceptre — the iron whereof " entereth 
the soul." Let all Christendom beside, in feigned 
humility, drink again the cup of the stench of 
priestly debauchery and pride : the men of the 
British islands, or the Christians among them, 
would no more become thus vile in the sight of 
Heaven, and in their own estimation. Nay, this 
is but half the truth ; for God would not permit 
that all the earth should be enslaved anew ; 
and to prevent it, He gave courage to multi- 
tudes of the Christians of Britain, that they 
might contend, through the tedious years of 
two centuries, with the pallid, mitred, inhuman, 
monsters of Church Power, and with a succes- 
sion of ferocious or dotard queens and kings. 
They did so contend, and at the last blood was 
stayed— the priest was foiled, and England was 
freed ! 

England was freed ! and what does it not owe 
to the men, with all their faults, yes, and to the 
women too, and the babes, whose tears, and 
groans, and patience, whose imprisonments and 
desolate wanderings, whose torments and la- 
mentable deaths, were the price of its deliver- 
ance! This debt is strictly incalculable, not 
only because the benefits so obtained are more 
than can be distinctly reckoned, but because 



336 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



the happy consequences are even now in full 
flow over our own, and other countries, and 
are promising to run down with a swollen stream 
to all future times. Fairly may it he questioned 
whether, if in that long struggle the Priest had 
vanquished the Puritan, England would not at 
this moment have been — as Spain ! Fairly, we 
say, and on solid ground of philosophical calcu- 
lation may it be surmised, that if Church Power 
had then prevailed over its victims, not a residue 
of English liberty would have been saved. But 
the liberty of religion being once rescued, that 
most potent of all the elements of freedom, 
drawing with it, by an indissoluble alliance, all 
other elements, has preserved for our use and 
enjoyment whatever ennobles us among the na- 
tions — knowledge and philosophy, commerce 
and courage, with their attendant wealth and 
power ; as well as that political framework which 
has been the admiration and envy of the world. 

England, by the indulgent providence of 
God, has been delivered from the worst of 
all evils — the worst, because big with every 
other. Yet has it not been absolutely purged 
of the inveterate poison of spiritual arrogance. 
And how much soever the course of events, and 
the temper of the age, may seem to secure us 
against the return of the old usurpations, there 
is room to aflirm that vigilance in this behalf 
should not for a moment be intermitted ; and 
that all men, irrespectively of their regard to 



CHARITY AND CONSCIENCE. 



337 



religion, should be awake and ready, both to 
repel its insidious advances, and to drive it con- 
tinually on to narrower and still narrower ground, 
until itself is fain to take a last leap into the 
pit whence first it issued. 

But we return to our position — That the well 
remembered struggle between Conscience and 
Church Power, to the issue of which we owe all 
our liberties, and the still extant murmurs and 
restless movements of the same vanquished 
tyranny, operate very powerfully, and in a man- 
ner much to be lamented, upon our religious 
parties. The Dissident, habituated, and taught 
to think of his dissidence as a laudable and ne- 
cessary opposition to ecclesiastical usurpation, 
and feeling, too, the close and constant con- 
nexion between religious and civil liberty, loses 
sight, almost entirely, of the religious mischiefs 
of division. A bold assertion of the rights of 
conscience is his praise, his pride, and his no- 
bility ; for he deems it a bright nobility to stand 
as successor to the men who, at the dearest 
price, bought religious liberty for England. 
Separation, in his view, is decked with a nimbus 
of glory. Nothing can dissolve in his mind the 
association between the recollection of worthies, 
more illustrious than dukedoms could have made 
them, and this same separation, which it has now 
become his turn to support. 

Thus advantaged by its association with the 



338 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



most animating emotions, the idea of restricted 
and party communion contains little or nothing 
which shocks the Christian sentiments of the 
pious dissident ; much less of the irreligious 
one : and even in reference to other bodies, 
where no plea remains for calling up the virtue 
of resistance to tyranny, the same feeling ex- 
tends itself. Division, if indeed granted to be 
abstractedly an evil, is seen always through 
the golden mist that exhales from many not- 
forgotten fields of glorious triumph ! 

A very easy and natural confusion of thought 
persuades any one who holds the doctrine of 
the right of men to think and act for themselves 
in matters of religion, with the most absolute 
freedom ; that this civil privilege contains within 
itself, or conveys, a religious right, or a right as 
member of the Church of Christ, to act with the 
same disregard of the opinions, or the welfare, 
or the prejudices, of his brethren. On all occa- 
sions where forbearance might be called for, the 
Briton kindles, and the Christian gives way. Is 
not, he will say, the right of private judgment 
surrendered, or made nugatory, when it is asked 
of me to hold a private conviction in abeyance, 
or to remit its agitation, for the mere preserva- 
tion of external harmony ? 

The English feeling of absolute personal inde- 
pendence, both in opinions and conduct, has so 
thoroughly dislodged from the minds and hearts 
of many the Christian feeling of submission, 



CHARTTY AND CONSCIENCE. 



339 



for the sake of love and peace, and much more 
of submission or deference to pastoral authority, 
that the greatest imaginable revolution must 
take place in the religious community, before it 
can be hoped that the capital and simple prin- 
ciples of church communion will be generally 
recognized and bowed to. Nothing seems at 
present to indicate the approach of any such 
favourable change among us. 

Meanwhile it is natural to ask — Why should 
not the Christians of the New World avail 
themselves of the advantages they enjoy for 
reconsidering those faulty principles of com- 
bination which their good ancestors carried 
with them, when they fled from strife and 
cruelty to the wilderness ? Were those times 
such as ought to warrant the belief that the 
principles of church order were well under- 
stood? Would a man choose to take to him- 
self any opinion, unexamined, from the age 
when church tyranny made wise men mad ? 
But although the ecclesiastical doctrines of the 
Puritans have received, in modern times, some 
practical corrections, this system — parent of 
division, has never yet been subjected to full 
and calm examination. What is the fact, as well 
in America as in England? not that all who 
profess and love the main articles of the Gospel 
are one and undistinguished ; but that they 
are still segregated, Christians from Christians, 

z2 



340 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



under odious designations ! In England insu- 
perable difficulties, or difficulties too great for 
our measure of grace and wisdom, stand in the 
way of any comprehensive movements ; or our 
habits and notions are too inveterate to be med- 
dled with. We must move on, and dwindle in 
petty companies. But what apology can be 
framed for the perpetuation of schism in Ame- 
rica ? none surely that is not trivial. 

We hear with joy, or hope, of certain rapid 
advances of piety among the transatlantic 
churches. No misgiving will haunt our joy, 
or damp our hope, when it shall be reported, 
that the Christians of the United States have so 
received the unction from above, as to bring 
them to concord, visible as well as cordial. 



XXI. 



THE FEW NOBLE. 

" NOT MANY NOBLE." 



The most conspicuous praise of Christianity 
is its fitness to benefit the undistinguished mass 
of mankind. How indeed could we recognize 
that as a message from the Supreme Beneficence 
which seemed to address itself principally to those 
who already hold the advantages of intelligence 
and refinement ? On the contrary, how can we 
fail to admit that the Gospel is from heaven, 
when we see that it turns away from the illus- 
trious to the ignoble, from the rich to the poor, 
from the wise to the ignorant; in a word — 
from the few to the many ? 

Furthermore, the doctrine of Christ challenges 
a peculiar commendation, inasmuch as it is seen 
to confer the substantial benefits of virtue and 
wisdom upon the vulgar multitude of mankind 
(if indeed a phrase like this ought to find a place 
at all when the Gospel is mentioned) without 
being solicitous to rid itself of the humiliations 
and the contumelies, we might almost say, the 
contaminations, it meets with, while allying itself 



342 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



to the ignorance, the rudeness of manners, and 
the many ungracious prejudices that ordinarily 
deform the lower conditions of life. Christianity 
does not stand aloof on high ground, and say 
to the abject, and the illiterate, Put off your 
unseemly garb of misery, and learn civility and 
courteousness, before I can approach your com- 
pany. But rather, with the courage of true 
goodness, it consents to sustain a thousand 
disgraces so that it may, by any means, bring 
salvation to the homes of the wretched. Nor 
is this all ; for the Gospel makes men good 
and wise (substantially so) without removing 
always the unsightly adjuncts of poverty and 
ignorance ; and even after it has fixed its abode 
with the poor, continues to disregard the morti- 
fying circumstances that so much annoy fasti- 
dious pride. 

But is then this doctrine, which consort so 
commonly with the ignoble, as if by affinity of 
tastes, or incapacity to occupy a higher sphere, 
is it in itself ignoble, or destitute of the elements 
of grandeur ? Who will say that the purity of 
its ethics has no greatness or dignity, or that 
its discovery of eternal life has no sublimity, or 
its exhibition of Mercy — mercy purchased so 
as it was, no beauty ? Or has the only fault- 
less theology mankind has known, no glory ? 
All, even its enemies, confess, that, in these se- 
veral particulars, the religion of the Scriptures 
displays a majesty unrivalled. The familiar 



THE FEW NOBLE. 



343 



converse, therefore, which it holds with the 
lowest conditions, instead of being justly alleged 
as proof of kindred abjectness, should be used 
as an evidence of that genuine magnanimity 
which might be expected in what descends from 
heaven, and is scarcely or never found in what 
is born of earth. 

And yet, while the Gospel, ordinarily, shrouds 
its intrinsic dignity so much, and embraces many 
humiliations (as its Author veiled his proper 
glory when he dwelt in flesh) it does not fail, 
in some few instances, to expand itself more 
at large, and to develop, in full symmetry, its 
essential greatness. Not indeed that the doc- 
trine of Christ can owe any illustration to the 
native excellences of human nature, as if to an 
independent power, or derive advantage from a 
foreign source. But " every good and perfect 
gift" coming from above, and the original fa- 
culties and the endowments of the mind being 
immediately from God, it is natural that, when 
many gifts of various kinds — physical, adventi- 
tious, and heavenly, meet in the same subject, 
those of each kind should receive from their 
combination with the others a new and extra- 
ordinary splendour: native intelligence, and 
greatness or nobility of soul, advantaged by cul- 
ture and secular embellishments, shine, as with 
a divine light, when made luminous by the in- 
dwelling of the Spirit ; and this Spirit shews the 
more conspicuously His presence and power, 



344 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



when the " living temple" is of spacious con- 
struction, and is adorned with costly materials 
and many offerings. Here and there one is found 
who admits the religion of heaven in its own 
manner, imbibes its sublimity and beauty with- 
out detriment, and glorifies God, the giver of 
all, by displaying the triple nobility of Nature, 
Culture, and Faith. 

Might it be said that the royal Image and 
Superscription which, by the trituration and 
corrosion it undergoes in the common world, 
becomes continually less and less distinct, is 
from time to time issued afresh, and from a 
new die ; and all men, in the sharp impression 
and inimitable skill of the work, recognize the 
fine gold of the realm, and are much embold- 
ened in their reliance upon the vigilance and 
good faith of the unseen Administrator of affairs ? 
Certain it is that the style and tone of piety, 
in every age, or in private circles, is in great 
degree dependent upon the impulse imparted 
to the mass of Christians by a few distinguished 
men ; or perhaps by one such. How often 
have the deep and secret conflicts, purposes, 
conquests, of an illustrious spirit, when divulged 
after it has quitted earth, spread like a leaven 
through the entire commonwealth of Chris- 
tianity ; and, as a means, or second cause, has 
enhanced, in various degrees, almost all the 
then existing piety of the church ! Nor should 
we be safe in affirming that even the most 



THE FEW NOBLE. 



345 



obscure or remote portions of the general body 
receive no advantage in such instances ; for 
moral and religious influence, like a subtile ether, 
attenuates itself until it is no longer noticeable 
by human observation. Much less can we set 
bounds, in time, to this influence ; for piety is, if 
we might so speak, peculiarly traditive, and per- 
petuates and repeats itself, through the longest 
lines of transmission from age to age. 

Not one of the common prejudices that spring 
from the pravity of the heart is more notably 
absurd than that which attributes to the indi- 
vidual, as ground of arrogance and vanity, his 
natural endowments of mind or body. The 
secret motives that dispose mankind to boast 
more of those advantages which they have had 
no part in procuring for themselves, than of 
those which have been the fruit of industry, are 
indeed not hard to be analyzed, or accounted 
for. Nevertheless, though the error be easily 
fallen into, it is not the less preposterous for a 
man to assume as a merit those distinctions, 
which he could no more win for himself than 
confer upon another. 

The proper jealousy entertained by Christians 
in regard to this error, which is at once a proud 
prejudice, and a folly, leads them somewhat 
too far, when, in order to cut off effectually 
the occasions of vain -glorious self-love, they 
almost refuse to give due praise and credit to 



346 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



God's own bestowments. There is a danger 
and a difficulty, it is true, in this quarter ; never- 
theless it must never be forgotten, much less 
denied, that great mental capacity, and the 
power of accumulating knowledge, and noble- 
ness of spirit, as well as the graces and em- 
bellishments of the exterior man, are gifts, and 
inestimable gifts of God. And if we all saw 
things, whether spiritual or natural, with a clear 
eye — an eye purged of the films of earth, none 
would become vain on account of endowments 
or powers the rudiments of which he brought 
with him into the world. Shall indeed a rea- 
sonable being challenge to himself, as author, 
any distinction or advantage that was elaborated 
in the womb, and that is older than his con- 
sciousness ? The future life shall root out this 
prejudice, effectually and for ever ; and then all 
spirits, with open eye beholding the Fountain of 
good, shall glorify the Creator in whatsoever he 
bestows upon the creature. 

And besides ; the very largest capacity, and 
the most noble dispositions, are nothing more 
than an approximation to the proper standard 
and true symmetry of human nature; and if 
they seem to reach perfection in one or more 
points, never fail to fall far short of it in others. It 
is true that if men generally did only conceive 
of the grandeur of their destiny as immortal, 
every human being would at once become 
noble and magnanimous, both in sentiment and 



THE FEW NOBLE. 



347 



conduct. But a conception so large as this 
enters few minds ; and very few attain that 
greatness of mind which, even when carried to 
the utmost, is still less than reason would seem 
to demand as proper to man. Is not then the 
want of that elevation of soul which should 
naturally spring from a consciousness of immor- 
tality, and of relationship to God, to be ac- 
counted an unspeakable defect ? If so, it must 
be deemed small praise just to possess that, 
which not to possess is a preposterous fault! 
This is in fact the rule whereby great minds are 
accustomed to estimate their own superiority ; 
and while employing their power of comprehen- 
sion and abstraction in conversing with ideas of 
absolute perfection, they acquire, from the com- 
parison thence arising, a modesty like that of 
childhood, and are, notwithstanding any com- 
parisons with other men, always alive to a ge- 
nuine sense of imperfection and ignorance. 

Although there are noble dispositions that do 
not imply so much, yet the true ideal of mag- 
nanimity demands an original predominance of 
the two faculties that are the prerogative of 
man, and which by their development distin- 
guish one race of men from another, or, one 
man from another — namely, the powers of 
Abstraction and Imagination ; and these, not 
single or disproportioned, but duly balanced 
and blended. It is the first which disengages 



34S 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



the mind from those partial aspects of things that 
fix the attention of inferior understandings. It 
is the power and disposition to discern, in every 
fact or event, not so much its single import, as 
its universal meaning, and its relation to general 
principles, which fills the mind always with the 
most comprehensive conceptions. It is this 
power which leads on always from the less 
perfect, towards the more perfect ; from what is 
accidental and adjunctive, to what is universal ; 
or from the exterior to the interior ; or from 
the specious to the real ; and in so doing, not 
merely gives the reasoning faculty its proper 
and necessary advantage, but dispels and puts 
out of view a thousand distracting motives. 
Calmness and intellectual courage, not less than 
perspicacity, are the fruit of the power of ab- 
straction. 

And yet if alone, or if it be the paramount 
faculty of the mind, this power makes a man 
nothing more than an intellectualist of a parti- 
cular class ; a mathematician, physiologist, or 
dialectician ; and as such he may be altogether 
wanting in greatness of mind. But the philo- 
sophic faculty becomes, if we might so speak, 
luminous, and expands itself too over an incom- 
parably larger surface, and moves with far more 
celerity, when it is commingled, in a just pro- 
portion, with the powers of imagination. It is 
the sense of Beauty, in the extended meaning 
of the word, and of sublimity, it is the perception 



THE FEW NOBLE. 



349 



of harmony, of richness, of magnificence, and 
of symmetry, which elevates the man of ab- 
struse reasoning to a range whence he con- 
templates all circles of human knowledge, and 
avails himself of the fruits of all : he is then 
aborigin of all spheres of thought, and finds 
himself at home and at ease in every region. 
On the other hand, destitute of the power of 
abstraction, or the philosophic faculty, the man 
of imagination is an artist only — a caterer of 
transient delights, or a mere sentimentalist, 
whose entire existence is as unimportant as the 
pleasures of a summer's evening. But the two 
faculties in combination, as congenial, yet anta- 
gonist powers, exert, one upon the other, an 
influence of enhancement, as well as of refine- 
ment. That faculty of which the object is 
Truth, imparts to that of which the object is 
Beauty, severity of taste ; and so renders every 
pleasure it approves at once intense and perma- 
nent ; while in return, the latter conveys to the 
former the elasticity, and force, and gust of 
enjoyment, which are characteristic of ripe man- 
hood, when compared with withered age. It has 
been the men of one faculty to whom mankind 
stands indebted for particular benefits in art or 
science ; but it is those alone who have com- 
bined the two, whom all mankind regards with 
grateful reverence. 

And yet these are mere rudiments of genuine 



350 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



magnanimity, indispensable indeed, but insuffi- 
cient if alone. For human nature is not com- 
plete until it be enamoured of Goodness, as well 
as of Truth and Beauty ; yet this can take place 
only when its own moral senses are sound : 
virtue, therefore, is a proper element of great- 
ness.* Destitute of the sense of rectitude, and 
of the emotions belonging to that sense, or 
deprived of them by actual pravity of soul, 
Mind ought hardly to be deemed more than 
a brute power — a mere mechanism of cogita- 
tion. Or if it be in active hostility to those 
sentiments, it is monstrous ; and the more there 
should be of intelligence in such a being, the 
more also of horrid deformity. In fact, if we 
take as a whole whatever may be known by the 
human mind, one half, and the most important, 
cannot be discerned without the aid of the 
moral faculty. Love, which is virtue in act, 
opens upon the mind the perception of truths 
as real and valid as any of the principles of 
mathematical science. Or love may be termed 
the mode in which the highest and most univer- 
sal truths subsist in the soul : how then can 
any spirit be great from which must be deducted 
that world of things that is understood only by 
virtue and love ? Selfishness is an incalculable 
error, as well as a vice ; malignity, or sensuality 
is a thick darkness. We must then utterly deny 

* Tov coy aXrjOas dpa p.eya\6^rvxov, Set dyaOdv (ivai. 



THE FEW NOBLE. 



351 



the praise of magnanimity to one, whatever his 
capacity, whose whole existence lies within the 
compass of his personal desires ; or whose am- 
bition grasps nothing greater than his single 
advantage. 

There is a sort of energy, leading to enter- 
prise and achievement, and giving support also 
to fortitude, of which it is hard to say whether 
it most belongs to the body or the mind : it 
has perhaps its roots in the former, and thence 
draws its supplies, and there holds its grasp ; 
but yet rises and spreads, and displays itself in 
the higher intellectual element. Without this 
force (whether it is to be accounted physical or 
mental) the soul may indeed conceive of that 
which is great, and may sigh and yearn after it ; 
but still will be left in the rear of action, to con- 
temn itself for its continual failures. 

Certain adventitious advantages of personal 
dignity, bodily strength, and equable health, 
must not be spoken of in the same absolute 
terms, as necessary conditions of greatness of 
soul, any more than nobility of birth, or the 
habits that belong to high station and affluence. 
Nevertheless it were an equal error to affirm of 
these advantages, on the one hand, that they 
are indispensable to magnanimous sentiments; 
or on the other, that they have no affinity there- 
with, or no influence in enhancing generous 
emotions. Nature and history contradict both 



352 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



suppositions. In many signal instances that 
might be named, Mind, as if purposely to dispa- 
rage, or put contempt upon its humble com- 
panion, Matter, has burst through the restraints 
and humiliations of a feeble, diseased, or dis- 
torted form, by mere force of higher qualities : 
or again, as if to make mockery of exterior 
graces, it has withheld every virtue and every 
gift from those whose symmetry and dignity of 
person seemed to fit them for thrones. And yet 
the uneasiness or painful sense of unfitness of 
which every one is conscious while such in- 
stances are before the eye, is itself a proof that 
nature herself teaches us to look for some corre- 
spondence between the interior and the exterior 
man ; or that it is her general rule to make the 
visible a true symbol of the invisible. 

Some actual concernment with important af- 
fairs, a real conflict with difficulties, as well as 
some achieved enterprises of danger or labour, 
though not of course to be enumerated among 
the elements of magnanimity, must be peremp- 
torily affirmed as indispensable to its existence 
otherwise than as a mere rudiment, or germ. 
The collision of the mind with the perils and 
toils of life, may fairly be assumed as a test of 
true greatness, because our definition of it in- 
cludes both power, and the propensity to exert 
it ; for without this ingredient we retain no- 
thing that might serve to distinguish between 



THE FEW NOBLE. 



353 



the idle contemplatist, or the mere poet, or the 
retired man of abstraction, and him whom we 
deem magnanimous. Energy that achieves no- 
thing, is a febrile restlessness ; not the power of 
health. Greatness that can establish its preten- 
sions by no ostensible and commensurate per- 
formances, is hardly to be known from imbecile 
ambition. 

Yet is there always a counterpoise in great 
minds between the desire of action, the vigorous 
passion for achievement, on the one part, and 
that tendency, on the other, to repose, that 
taste for peace, that calm residence of the soul 
upon its centre, which impels it (with an ap- 
parent inconsistency) now to stand forth, and 
now to recede from the noise and confusion of 
the world. We might find plenty of great minds, 
if we could but relinquish, in our definition, this 
special characteristic — a tranquil taste, and the 
capability of repose. In every circle one may 
meet with men of prodigious energy, and of 
indefatigable zeal ; but they are such as can 
exist only exteriorly, or in action : rest, when 
it must be taken, is with them a cessation of 
intellectual life ; not another and a graceful 
mode of it. Will it seem romantic to affirm that 
the characteristic serenity of minds truly great 
is an instinct of the soul, indicating its destiny to 
a future and endless life ? for even although 
that life were believed to consist of a perpetuity 
of action, nevertheless the anticipation of it, 



354 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



fraught as it is with the notion of infinity, and 
of perfection, must always be attended with the 
idea of peace and stillness. 

If yet some one infallible characteristic of 
genuine magnanimity were wanting, we should 
at once name an unalterable modesty as that 
mark. That it is so might be argued, not merely 
from the evidence of facts, establishing the point 
that great men have always shone with this 
grace, but it might be assumed a 'priori, inasmuch 
as elevation and grandeur of soul consists in an 
habitual contemplation of universal principles. 
This habit of the mind involves a tacit com- 
parison which is of the very essence of humility. 
The spirit that has no modesty, manifestly has 
no sense of abstract excellence ; and therefore 
can have no greatness, or, at least, is not 
holding converse with things greater than itself ; 
hence it grasps nothing that might aid it to 
spring up, or to rise above its actual level. 

The modesty of great minds, like their ten- 
dency to repose, generates an apparent incon- 
sistency at which common observers are amazed : 
it is a dissonance, full of sweetness and power, 
to well-taught ears. For just as there is (as 
we have already said) an alternation between 
the love of repose and the desire of action, so 
is there also, in noble spirits, a counterpoise be- 
tween the consciousness of native high quality, 
and this characteristic humility or meekness. 



THE FEW NOBLE. 



355 



Such are the changes of a spring day, when 
the sun, returning to our hemisphere, and about 
to put forth anew the generative fervour of 
summer, is seen contending with the heavy 
exhalations of earth. For a time these vapours 
gather over the heavens and darken the land- 
scape ; but at length they divide, and even 
while tepid showers are falling, the source of 
light is revealed in all his effulgence ; and yet 
only to be soon veiled again in the mists his 
own rays have drawn into the sky. 

False or affected greatness, which consists in 
the tumid expansion of a meagre substance, may 
assume all appearances of the true sooner than 
this of modesty, which either it will not attempt, 
or attempting, will utterly fail to reach. Or 
while acting the part of modesty, it will so ex- 
hibit its restlessness and impatience, as to forfeit 
the praise of serenity. Thus are the two inse- 
parable characteristics of genuine magnanimity 
denied to all pretenders. 

In nothing are great and inferior minds more 
certainly distinguished, than in that peculiar 
composite sentiment with which the former 
habitually contemplate mankind at large. We 
say composite sentiment ; because it brings to- 
gether, with singular harmony, all the separate 
ingredients of magnanimity just enumerated. 
In the analogous feeling of pretenders to great- 
ness, some one or more of these ingredients 
a a 2 



356 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



is wanting. The man of enormous ambition, 
splendid as his qualities may seem, can make 
out no valid claim to the affection of his fellow- 
men, even if he may compel their admiration ; 
for he looks upon them simply as the materials 
upon which to build the spacious edifice of 
his pride. Or if beneficence takes a turn in 
his emotions, it is taught to give way whenever 
it might embarrass the dominant passion. The 
vague theorist too, whose schemes are as large 
as continents, and who, one would say, has 
built his nest in the clouds, so that he looks 
down upon empires as a man does upon a 
colony of ants, is great only in his closet : he 
legislates for nations, schools senates, rebukes 
kings, revises what is faulty in the institutions 
of all lands, throws the blame of every human 
woe upon statutes. His pen is a paternal 
sceptre, wielded for the benefit of the species! 
Yes, but all this sovereign philanthropy is bottled 
in his inkhorn ! look for it elsewhere, in his con- 
duct, or his self-denials — you find it not : this 
huge good-will to men is nothing better than the 
mode of immeasurable vanity. 

The philanthropy that is genuine and great 
yearns to act, and must spend itself in some 
effort, effectual or not, to diffuse benefits. The 
habit of abstraction, which is the primary rudi- 
ment of the character of such a one, informed 
by the bright conceptions, and animated by the 
emotions which his imagination furnishes, leads 



THE FEW NOBLE. 



357 



him to meditate, as his favourite theme, upon 
the welfare of communities, or of his species at 
large. And he is enough of the philosopher to- 
look with indulgence upon the errors and faults 
of man ; but not so a philosopher as to make 
these errors and faults the subject of caustic 
merriment. He is poet enough to feel a kind- 
ling sympathy with whatever is beautiful or 
gracious in the social system ; but not so a 
poet as to turn away his eye from the un- 
pleasing realities of human degradation. He 
is the man of action, energy, courage, fortitude ; 
but his velocity is not that of a machine, which 
is serviceable or destructive blindly ; for he has 
long pondered whatever he attempts, and his 
motive is always so sound and admirable, that 
even his failures or defeats are brighter than other 
men's successes ; and when thwarted in his 
endeavours, men see, in his serenity, that it was 
good-will to his species, not ambition, which 
moved the attempt. 

Nothing can be less like arrogance or conceit 
than the feeling with which a great mind in- 
wardly confesses its superiority. Such is that 
respect for humanity which the man of magna- 
nimous sentiments entertains, that it is with 
sincere pain he recognizes at any time in other 
men those deficiencies, or that meanness, or 
baseness, or frivolity, whence he might draw a 
comparison in his own favour. As often as any 
such comparison obtrudes itself, gratulation 



358 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



gives way to shame, or compassion, for others. 
It is to him a heavy grievance that men should 
be so much blinded as they are by prejudice, 
perverted by passion, corrupted by interest; that 
they should be ignorant, infirm in judgment, 
sordid in conduct. The levity of mankind, and 
their corruption, alike distress him, for they con- 
trovert that feeling he would fain always cherish, 
of complacency towards all things, and of esteem 
for all. Tell him to think with pleasure of his 
own expansion of mind and nobility of temper; 
this is but in another manner to enumerate the 
dishonours of his fellow-men ! 

Conceptions and emotions of this order are 
justly deemed romantic when not found in com- 
bination with energy and consistency of con- 
duct ; that is to say, when they are mere 
conceptions, and mere emotions. But to think 
them so, however recommended by the active 
virtues, or to contemn the humility and the 
humanity of great minds as if it were a weakness, 
is to carry the rancour of democratic jealousy 
from the field of political contention into the 
elevated region of mind and virtue ! 



XXII. 



RUDIMENT OF CHRISTIAN 
MAGNANIMITY. 

" LET HIM THAT GLORIETH, GLORY IN THE LORD." 



And yet the greatness of man, at the best, 
is but fallen greatness restored ; and the utmost 
he can attain to in the present state is so much 
of dignity as may beseem one who, rightfully 
challenging the honours of high birth and illus- 
trious destiny, is rescued from a degradation he 
has sustained, and is replaced in a condition of 
hope and advancement. In such a case, every 
sentiment should have respect to the history, 
and to the true circumstances of the person. 
Genuine magnanimity will never prompt a man 
to hush up his past misfortunes, or disgraces ; 
much less to deny the obligation he is under to 
whoever has saved him from penury, obloquy, 
or danger. On the contrary, true generosity 
most shews itself in the readiness with which 
such confessions are made, and the debt of gra- 
titude acknowledged. It is the part only of the 



360 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



basest spirits to affect oblivion of humiliating 
facts with which all the world is acquainted. 

It must then be deemed a great disparage- 
ment when the subject of any signal misfor- 
tune — or benefit, is himself unconscious of the 
fact, or very imperfectly sensible of it ; and 
such ignorance is always to be deplored in pro- 
portion to the native generosity or nobleness of 
the individual in question. When vulgar souls 
are unapprised of signal services done them, we 
think the less of it, inasmuch as, if known, there 
would probably be little acknowledgment of the 
favour ; nay, perhaps, some offensive expression 
of ingratitude. But we long to inform the mag- 
nanimous of their obligations, if it were only that 
the most generous emotions of which human 
nature is susceptible might be set in flow. 

Ignorance of the cause and extent of his 
misery is the aggravation, universally, of the 
mischief that has happened to man ; and, con- 
trary to what might have been imagined, this 
ignorance attaches to the most elevated spirits, 
not less than to the most rude. Indeed those 
very qualities and powers of mind which might 
lead such to feel and deplore the deterioration 
of their moral state, and to accept frankly and 
joyfully the succour offered from above, seem 
rather to form a blind, intercepting the prospect 
of things greater and more excellent, that might 
be attained. 

If facts did not prove the contrary, how 



RUDIMENT OF CHRISTIAN MAGNANIMITY. 361 

confidently should we expect that all vigorous and 
generous minds would, with an instantaneous 
conviction, or as if by the instinct of a native 
sympathy, embrace the great principles of re- 
ligion ! — how natural that such should rush 
toward the hope of immortal happiness, should 
be foremost to accept the proffered friendship 
of the Most High, should yearn to get released 
from the defilements of sin, and especially that, 
from the impulse of a kindred generosity, and 
with the ingenuousness that distinguishes noble 
tempers, they should admire and receive the 
grace — divinely free, that has been obtained for 
mankind by the vicarious work of the Great 
Deliverer ! All this would naturally happen if 
the moral mischief that infests us were less than 
it is, or did not include a derangement or 
darkening of every faculty, and a perversion of 
every sentiment. 

This derangement, both of the intellectual and 
moral powers, common to all men, and not less 
complete in the instance of highly-gifted in- 
dividuals than in others, but often more so, is to 
be dispelled in one manner only ; that is to say, 
when Sovereign Power from on high restores 
the soul to soundness of health, and brings it 
back to the place and dignity whence it has de- 
clined. That this restoration is properly attri- 
butable to a Divine Agency, is confessed by 
every one who is the subject of it ; nor is the 
confession made merely in deference to the 



362 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



inspired testimony ; but springs from the im- 
pulse of consciousness, which dares not — cannot 
attribute so great and happy a change to any 
inferior cause. 

Whatever therefore may, in any case, be the 
measure of intelligence, how noble soever the 
pre-existing dispositions, how entire soever the 
ingenuousness and simplicity of the mind, when 
a cordial submission to the grace of the Gospel 
is spoken of, there is included, without excep- 
tion or distinction, the presence and agency of 
the Divine Spirit. The explicit affirmations of 
Scripture demand as much ; and the concur- 
rence of all, who by experience are qualified 
to speak on the subject, corroborates the same 
truth. 

But when once this renovation is effected, 
and when the many prejudices and crude sup- 
positions which the pride of the heart, or its 
vicious propensities, have generated, are dis- 
persed, the gifts of nature, whether intellectual 
or moral, will make themselves apparent. And 
first of all, superior mental power shews itself in 
the preliminary of a full conviction of the truth 
of Christianity. Alternations of doubt and con- 
fidence, where evidence is complete, are charac- 
teristic of a feeble understanding ; and it belongs 
too to a confused one, to rest, from year to year, 
in a sort of equable haze of semi-persuasion, 
as it were on the very borders of light, when 



RUDIMENT OF CHRISTIAN MAGNANIMITY. 363 

certainty is attainable. Multitudes of Chris- 
tians, it may be feared, are Christians of this 
degree — occupants of the penumbra of faith ; 
and believers or sceptics, according to the direc- 
tion in which they happen at the moment to be 
looking, whether towards the region of day or 
of night. A vigorous mind is impatient of any 
such state of incertitude : it acquiesces indeed 
calmly in the necessity of the case, when evidence 
is imperfect or inconclusive ; and will then be as 
jealous of dogmatism, as otherwise it would of 
indecision. But how should it restrain its active 
force, or how repress that irresistible desire — 
the desire of knowledge, when ample materials 
are before it, when every species of proof in 
redundance offers itself to examination, when 
circuitous and coincident testimony is seen to 
run on in the same general direction with that 
which is explicit, so that, to remain in ignorance, 
or to be the victim of delusion, is a culpable 
weakness, preposterous as it is unhappy ? 

On a subject like that of the Christian evi- 
dences, a man of powerful and comprehensive 
mind, after he has once made himself master of 
the argument, feels on all occasions that the 
approach of doubt is nothing but a symptom of 
some momentary debility or torpor of the rea- 
soning faculty ; and in alarm, not for the question, 
but for the integrity of his own powers, he rouses 
a manly strength, and shakes off the impotency 
that had crept upon him. That this sort of 



364 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



vigorous faith does not more often shew itself 
among Christians, is because the two elements 
whence it should spring are but rarely united : 
for, on the one hand, those whose fervent piety 
gives them an interior or experimental con- 
viction of the truth of the Scriptures, are not 
very often, in any good degree, familiar with the 
documentary argument ; or perhaps have not 
the intellectual power requisite for appreciating 
its force. And on the other hand, the few who 
do possess these advantages, too often labour 
under coldness at heart, or a secularity of cha- 
racter which makes Christianity and its principal 
doctrines distasteful, or unintelligible ; so that 
their rational conviction, how strong soever it 
may be, never rests within them at ease, but is 
always in conflict with this or that prejudice, or 
lurking suspicion. Or it may be, that the irk- 
some familiarity of professional engagements in 
religion has blunted the spiritual sense ; or that 
an enfeebling of the judgment, produced by the 
accumulation of ponderous erudition, actually 
disables the mind from grasping or retaining its 
hold of great and serious truths. 

And is there not room to say, that what 
may be termed secular vigour of mind, vigour 
trained and exercised either on the theatre of 
public life, or within the precincts of natural 
science, when animated by genuine piety, pro- 
duces an unblenching faith which those might 
envy whose duties in religion at once demand 



RUDIMENT OF CHRISTIAN MAGNANIMITY. 365 

the most unshaken persuasion, and tend to 
impair it. 

The same intellectual energy, enlivened by 
the fervour and ingenuousness of a cordial 
faith, carries the mind forward in full course, 
clear of frivolous sophisms, to the great facts, 
whether more or less mysterious, that are dis- 
tinctly affirmed or indubitably implied in the 
Scriptures. Convinced that these books bear 
with them the authority attaching to a mira- 
culous communication of knowledge from God 
to man, a sound, philosophic, and upright mind 
dares not for a moment hesitate to regard them 
as altogether trustworthy in their mode and 
style of conveying the principles they were 
actually intended to impart. There is indeed 
an alert sagacity, there is a mobile penetra- 
tion, which we naturally call into exercise when 
we have to do with any who are endeavouring, 
as we suppose, either to perplex or to deceive 
us. But to open the Bible in this spirit — to take 
the Book as from the hand of God, and then to 
look at it aloof, and with caution, as if through- 
out it were illusory and enigmatical, is the worst 
of all impieties, as well as the greatest possible 
inconsistency. 

The Creator, having already spoken intelli- 
gibly to man by the display of His wisdom and 
power in the visible world, which sets forth con- 
spicuously enough the first truths of theology, 



366 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



would seem Himself to inculpate or disparage 
that existing mode of instruction if, when He 
condescends to teach us mouth to mouth, He 
were to tell us of nothing that had not already 
been imparted in the elder method. The Scrip- 
tures, then, because attended with supernatural 
attestations, are to be presumed to contain high 
matters, and such, that no less an apparatus 
could properly have conveyed them. Nor will 
an enlarged and generous spirit, already awak- 
ened to discern the glory of the Incompre- 
hensible Being, with whom we have to do, deem 
those things to be unworthy of Heaven which 
the inspired writers, in the calm simplicity of 
truth, open to our faith and gratitude. 

In like manner as it may readily be conceived 
that, when the human spirit enters upon the 
untrodden fields of a higher world, though the 
economy of that sphere, and the stupendous 
objects or movements belonging to it, are all as 
amazing as they are new, nevertheless, not one 
of those objects, not one of those novel acts, 
fails to find some principle of sympathy or 
alliance in the native ideas or emotions of the 
new-born child of immortality; and this for 
the plain reason, that an absolute harmony 
or unity of principle pervades, as well the in- 
tellectual, as the material universe ; so, for 
the same reason, whatever elements, or trans- 
actions of that upper world are now brought 
within our knowledge by the Scriptures, though 



RUDIMENT OF CHRISTIAN MAGNANIMITY. 367 

invested, as we might well anticipate, with the 
majesty and awful greatness of infinity, are yet 
found to have a thorough analogy with our 
human nature, and meet, in its original prin- 
ciples, with corresponding rules of thinking, or 
modes of feeling, and instantly make themselves 
at home in our bosoms. 

Whoever has freely and gratefully admitted 
into his heart the first truth of Christianity — 
the atonement made for sin by the Son of God, 
will grant that he finds in it nothing that does 
not recommend itself to his reason, when rea- 
son is the most serene, and the most happily in 
correspondence with pure and ingenuous emo- 
tions. If ever he doubts the reality of this 
doctrine, or loses his perception of its excellence, 
it is precisely when the vivacity of every better 
sentiment has been hurt by the prevalence of 
earthly passions, or the influence of secular 
engagements. 

The great principle of the vicarious sufferings 
of Christ, and the correlative truth of his pro- 
per divinity, may either be thus confessed as 
congruous with our most ennobling emotions ; 
or they may be acquiesced in, as the conse- 
quence of an intimate perception of the unalter- 
able rectitude of the Divine nature ; and then 
this perception, though it deepens the emotions 
of contrition and humiliation, is felt, in the very 
same degree, to impart to it a qualification, 
and a taste, fitting it to rise into a sphere of 



368 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



existence ineffably higher than heretofore it 
had at all imagined, much less attained to. 
A true knowledge of God, as unchangeably 
just and absolutely holy, while, in a sense, it 
oppresses the spirit, exalts it far more. But it 
can have no such influence until the means 
are discerned by which Justice and Mercy may 
be reconciled. The very same spiritual per- 
ceptions that cast the soul into the depth of 
contrition, awaken it also to a consciousness 
of celestial excellence and glory. The agonies 
of penitence are nothing else than a bursting 
forth in the heart of those higher principles 
(originally planted there, but long subverted) 
which, when fully expanded, shall place man 
in communion with the most exalted natures ; 
and not only so, but open to him free access 
to the Source of all good. Destitute of these 
genuine elements of greatness, the magnanimity 
of man is false, or frustrate ; or spends itself 
and exhales in momentary efforts, and on un- 
worthy occasions. 

And yet how shall any such true and inti- 
mate perception of the Divine purity and inflex- 
ible rectitude, bringing with it, as it must, a 
proportionate sense of personal guilt, peril, and 
degradation, be at all entertained by the human 
mind, much less be cherished, until the hope 
of pardon and of friendship with God, has 
been seen to rest upon the most solid ground ? 
That this harmony of spiritual principles exists 



RUDIMENT OF CHRISTIAN MAGNANIMITY. 369 

nowhere but in the doctrine of the atonement, 
might be sufficiently argued from the fact, that 
the rejection of that doctrine is always coin- 
cident with indistinct and derogatory notions 
of the moral attributes of the Deity. Nothing 
can sever these rudiments of the religious life, 
namely, a consistent and elevated conception 
of the Divine character, a genuine compunction 
on account of guilt and depravity, and (if hope 
is entertained at all) a grateful acquiescence in 
the doctrine of substitution. 

The affirmation of this necessary connexion 
may be deemed gratuitous ; and it will so be 
deemed by those who themselves are destitute 
of the primary element of piety. Nevertheless 
it would not be difficult to embarrass the op- 
pugner (unless he took the ground of atheism) 
in a thousand contradictions ; much in the 
same manner that a man who had been blind 
from his birth might, especially if conversant 
with science, have it demonstrated to him, that 
there is actually a faculty by means of which 
knowledge is gained of remote objects, although 
for him in any degree to conceive of such a 
faculty would be utterly impossible. In such 
a case the blind man would be hedged in be- 
tween abstract demonstration, and the involun- 
tary scepticism that belongs to ignorance. 

The capital truth of the propitiatory sacrifice 
offered for mankind by the Son of God, gives 

B B 



370 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



scope to the greatest intellectual power, by a 
peculiarity that distinguishes the higher themes 
of religious meditation. In the several depart- 
ments of secular philosophy, the objects of 
abstract thought lie compactly within the range 
of the faculty they are to exercise ; and this 
faculty, so far from being aided in its efforts by 
the sensitive principles of the soul, demands 
that these should be quiescent while it is in 
action. Hence arises that common partition of 
minds into the two classes of the ratiocinative, 
and the sensitive ; nor is any thing more rare 
than a combination of the two, in any very 
eminent degree. 

But the peculiarity of the primary truth of 
the Christian system is this — That though it 
be a matter of abstraction, the materials of 
cogitation wait to be presented to the reasoning 
powers by the moral sense ; and this sense 
must first be spiritually quickened before it can 
perform its office. It is only when an intimate 
perception is had of the Divine rectitude and 
purity, and only in proportion to the vivacity 
of such perceptions, that the relations of justice 
and goodness can be discerned, or be subjected 
to reason. Apart from this spiritual discern- 
ment, the mental process, although it may 
be carried on with a semblance of logical con- 
sistency, has lost its substance (just as real 
quantities are forgotten in the working of 
algebraic signs) and the current of ideas quickly 



RUDIMENT OF CHRISTIAN MAGNANIMITY. 371 

subsides into the lower channel of mere spe- 
culation. Nothing less than the highest sen- 
sibility of the soul, its plenitude of feeling, 
and its participation of that Divine Nature 
which is Love, can give it fully the power to 
draw conclusions, on this high theme, from pre- 
mises, or to measure the true bearing of abstract 
notions. 

There are certain trains of reasoning on 
abstruse matters, wherein either the subject is 
so ethereal, or the connexion of principles so 
evanescent, or so recondite, that they are not 
at all to be pursued except when the intellectual 
powers are in a state of the very highest vigour. 
Hence naturally, it happens, that the conclu- 
sions which have been reached or assented to 
in the hour of mental strength and perspicacity 
come to be questioned, or very dimly appre- 
hended, in the season of languor that suc- 
ceeds : there is a vacillation, or an alternation 
of knowledge and doubt, just because the mind 
cannot permanently keep its position on the 
height which it sometimes attains. But in these 
cases the rise and fall of conviction takes place 
exclusively within the circle of the reasoning 
powers. 

The mental variation, or parallax, of which 
now we are speaking, is quite of a different 
sort. For it is not that the objects in question 
are in themselves subtile, or unsubstantial, or 
that the relations that connect them are slender 
b b 2 



372 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



or flickering ; yet are they not to be seen by 
the native lights of the human mind. The soul 
must, in this case, be illuminated from above 
before reason can do its work. It is as when 
the traveller who has reached an alpine height, 
at the breaking of day, looks around him upon 
a far extended sea of shapeless mists. Shall 
he believe that nothing is on the right hand and 
on the left but unimportant vapours ? No ; for 
the sun soon scatters these exhalations; and the 
stupendous masses of the mountains stand out in 
all their proper strength of colouring, and their 
breadth and solidity of form ! Now, nothing is 
indistinct or questionable ; and although, even 
while he is gazing, the clouds should reassemble 
upon the bosom of the hills, and leave him, as 
if insulated, on his pinnacle of observation, he 
would not, any the more, assent to one who 
should tell him that what lately he had contem- 
plated was an airy phantasm. 

Uncultured and ingenuous minds happily 
escape certain perplexities which, groundless as 
they are, often obstruct the course of excursive, 
and even of powerful understandings ; nor is 
there any way of escape from such embarrass- 
ments, except that which a radiance from heaven 
makes known. If, for example, the mind falters 
at the ineffable doctrine of the divine dignity of 
Him who was "Son of man" and "Son of God;" 
faith is reassured when a perception is obtained 



RUDIMENT OF CHRISTIAN MAGNANIMITY. 373 

of the unalterable glory of the moral perfections 
of God ; and while that perception enkindles 
penitence and fear, it is most distinctly felt 
that, if the fallen are indeed to be rescued, 
and the guilty absolved, nothing of less mag- 
nitude than the Christian economy can recon- 
cile the demands of rectitude with the course 
of mercy. Not one of the correlative notions 
on which the Gospel turns can possibly be sur- 
rendered, or at all abated. To give up the first 
of them, is nothing less than for the soul to 
dismiss its high conception of purity and bliss ; 
it is for itself to fall back into that abyss of 
darkness and dismay whence lately it emerged. 
Most distinctly is it discerned that the only 
tenable Tiope of progressive happiness, and the 
only worthy idea of the future expansion and 
perfection of the powers of human nature, coin- 
cide precisely with an enlargement of this same 
spiritual knowledge of the Divine purity, and 
with an increasing intensity of the emotions 
that thence arise. Now without presuming to 
ask, whether the salvation of man might in 
any other way than by the propitiatory work of 
Christ have been reconciled with the Divine attri- 
butes, it is enough that the stupendous scheme 
of mercy opened in the Gospel — a scheme which 
human minds would never have devised, mani- 
festly brings every contrariety to unison, and 
may cordially be embraced as the true harmony 
of heaven. 



374 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Not indeed as if the field of divine science 
could so be traversed and surveyed by the 
human faculties, or as if the actual procedures 
of the Supreme Intelligence could so be made 
matter of antecedent calculation, as that men 
might be qualified to say — Thus, and thus 
only, could Infinite Wisdom attain its pur- 
poses. Arguments that rest on any such ground 
merit reprobation. But, as natural philosophy 
presents many arrangements in the material 
system of which the use and excellence may 
be distinctly seen, although, a priori, no such 
combinations would ever have been thought 
of as possible, or have been deemed fit, 
even if possible ; so, in divine science, may 
we very intelligently consent to the wisdom of 
known rules and principles, though the higher, 
or abstract reason that determines them, and 
whence they might have been foreknown, far 
surpasses our powers of thought. In these 
sacred themes distinct convictions may be at- 
tained which, because they result from a spi- 
ritual sense of the perfections of God, are not 
to be conveyed from mind to mind, or embodied 
in any forms of language. Nevertheless they 
are as valid as the best of those conclusions 
that are drawn from the first elements of 
knowledge. 

But if extraordinary intellectual powers may 
find a scope in the principal themes of religion, 
and if the exercise of them to good advantage 



RUDIMENT OF CHRISTIAN MAGNANIMITY. 375 

demands always the accompaniment of spiritual 
convictions ; there is also need of that generous 
simplicity of sentiment which distinguishes a 
magnanimous spirit from the mere reasoner. 
When the process of rigid analysis is applied to 
subjects that stretch far beyond the range of 
human knowledge, nothing but embarrassment 
can be the result ; and to gain freedom we must 
return to those simple sentiments that are, on 
many occasions, better guides than abstruse 
reasoning. Thus it is that a frigid scrutiny of 
the ideas brought together in the scheme of 
human redemption generates, often, a misgiving, 
as if there must be a want of substance in the 
ingenuous expressions employed by the Apo- 
stles, when they speak of the grace and love of 
the Saviour in " giving himself a ransom for 
many;" or as if, after the several shares of the 
Divine and human natures are allotted, nothing 
remains which can distinctly be held as adequate 
motive of affectionate gratitude. Any such idea 
is the consequence of attempting to analyse that 
of which none of the elements come within our 
grasp. A feeling of this sort may be surmised 
to lurk beneath a certain style of pulpit exag- 
geration, employed perhaps sometimes, to con- 
ceal the perplexities of the mind, or to hide 
that chasm in the heart which should be filled by 
devout affections. 

A cold scientific distribution of the parts of 
the satisfaction once offered for sins by the 



376 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Divine Mediator, and which so much annoys 
ingenuous minds in books of divinity, finds no 
precedent in the style of the Apostles. They 
(better taught than logicians could teach them) 
spoke on all occasions of their Lord, as the 
Saviour of the world, in a manner which has no 
reason if we forget his humanity ; and no piety 
if we deny his divinity ; and no force, if we 
attempt in any manner to sever the one from 
the other. The polemic term OeavOpwiros, happy 
and comprehensive as it may seem, was not 
used by them, because they felt no need of it, 
or had never thought of so distinguishing their 
conception of the Person of Christ as is implied 
in the construction of a phrase of this sort. 
Like some other terms, now unhappily become 
almost indispensable, it points to heresy ; and 
would fall out of usage if there were no sophistry 
in the world, and no gainsayers. 

The inspired writers never pause when they 
speak of Christ, as if they must use caution in 
rightly assigning the terms they employ. The 
characteristic of their manner is unity, rather 
than abstruse precision. Unconscious of em- 
barrassment, they ascribe, in the fullest and 
clearest terms, to the Saviour of men, emotions 
and modes of action which metaphysical severity 
refuses to predicate of the eternal and unchange- 
able Deity ; and in the same breath, and without 
a note of surprise, attribute to him perfections 
which it were blasphemy to challenge for any 



RUDIMENT OF CHRISTIAN MAGNANIMITY. 377 

but the Possessor of omniscience, omnipotence, 
and eternity. 

This harmony of style on a point where scep- 
ticism always stumbles, and where superstition 
always runs into extravagance, ought to be 
deemed a signal proof of the presence of a 
wisdom more than human. A vigorous under- 
standing, and a temper that spurns the sinuosi- 
ties of unbelief, when guided by the same Spirit 
of Truth, confidently follows on the path trod- 
den by Apostles. No unsound sentiment need 
be imputed, when it is said, that a great mind, 
informed from above, will, in a peculiar manner, 
catch by sympathy the greatness, the magna- 
nimity, which belongs to the character and 
actions of the Saviour of the world. In this 
character, and in these actions, in these words 
of grace, and deeds of mercy, scope is found, and 
more than scope, for the profoundest emotions 
which the spirit of man may at all sustain. The 
mind reaches no limit on this ground : the 
objects of its meditation, by a combination 
mysterious truly, possess at once all the dis- 
tinctness and vivacity that belong to what is 
human, and all the depth and height that attach 
to what is divine. Although indeed the attempt 
must always be fruitless to penetrate the incom- 
prehensible union of the divine and human 
nature, the actual harmony which that union 
produced is forcibly and clearly perceived by 
the moral sense ; and eminently so by minds 



378 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



of extraordinary power. Scarcely a sentence 
recorded by the evangelists, and scarcely an 
action narrated, fails to present, with more or 
less distinctness, and in wondrous unison, the 
divine and human attributes of Him who spake 
as never man spake. Remove from the dis- 
courses of Jesus, and from his conduct, the 
mystery of his Person, and every just idea of 
fitness is shocked ; nay, the entire narrative 
becomes incredible ; or rather, let us say, that 
it is incomparably easier to admit the divinity 
of Christ, than to reject it, if we would read 
the Gospels without being confounded and 
perplexed. 

Controversy (inevitable though it be) spoils 
whatever it affects. The controversy of the 
Church with the impugners of the first truth 
of Christianity has, if we might use the allusion, 
quite chafed the resplendent surface of Revealed 
Religion, so that the impression we should other- 
wise have received from the Gospel narrative is 
vastly impaired. Our long-continued litigation 
with sophists has drawn us away from the full 
native force, to the smallest possible grammatical 
value of certain words and phrases. But the 
native force of language is nothing more than its 
true value, in all cases when an ingenuous writer 
adapts himself to ingenuous readers; and the 
denuded meaning which criticism evolves bears 
much the same relation to the genuine sense of 



RUDIMENT OF CHRISTIAN MAGNANIMITY. 379 

the writer, which a sear anatomical preparation, 
with its shrivelled fibres, and blanched bones, 
bears to the living man. If the believer suffers 
by this means, the heretic much more ; and it 
will seldom (perhaps never) be found that the 
naked grammatical power of language avails 
any thing with a mind that has lost, or thrown 
aside, its sensibility to natural impressions. The 
language of legal instruments is indeed con- 
structed on the principle - of insuring a definite 
sense against the utmost endeavours of chi- 
canery ; and yet with all its redundancies, it often 
fails to effect this object. Knaves find a flaw, 
and triumph over common sense and justice. 
Truly it was in another spirit that the Apostles 
wrote and spoke ; and whoever will not listen to 
them in their own spirit, must go away with his 
error as his punishment. 

And has not a punitive debility invaded the 
mind that can meditate upon the character of 
Him whom the evangelists describe, can muse 
upon his pregnant words, can imagine the awful 
serenity and gentle mercy of his tones, can 
stand by while he calls the dead from the bier, 
or the grave, can behold him stilling the winds, 
can hear him remit sins, or announce the judg- 
ment which himself is to administer ; or claim 
and accept the adoration of his followers ; can 
follow him at length to the mount of death, 
can listen when, about to ascend to his throne, 
he challenges to himself universal dominion, 



3S0 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



and after thus walking side by side with one 
such as was Jesus, can profess to have seen 
nothing, and to have heard nothing, but what is 
on the level of mere humanity? No blindness is 
like the blindness of such a mind ! Infatuation, 
when it extends so far, is not simple error, but 
disease. 

Once discerned, accepted, and devoutly enter- 
tained, the mediatorial character and vicarious 
work of Christ becomes an exclusive object, and 
generates an exclusive motive. All admiration, 
all gratitude, all affection, converge upon this 
one centre. And if he who so believes is indeed 
susceptible of magnanimous sentiments, and ca- 
pable of magnanimous conduct, then will he, the 
more gladly than others, forget every pretension, 
and deny every ambition ; and although, among 
his fellow-men, he might glory, will " glory only 
in the Lord." 



XXIII. 

THE DISSOLUTION OF HUMAN 
NATURE. 

" IT IS APPOINTED TO ALL MEN ONCE TO DIE." 



We are free to assume that the separation 
of the elements of human nature at death is 
a regular stage in the economy of the moral 
world. This may be believed, notwithstand- 
ing the fact of its having supervened in con- 
sequence of the offence of the first man. Death 
is indeed penal, and therefore must in one sense 
be deemed an after-act in the order of the 
Divine procedures ; nevertheless it was not 
merely foreseen, but no doubt predetermined 
for the accomplishment of some specific pur- 
pose. The breaking up of the animal machinery 
under the appalling circumstances that attend 
it, does indeed more than dimly display its 
primary reason, and speaks of transgression, 
and of the anger of Heaven. But many ana- 
logies in nature, as well as what we know of the 
rules of the Divine government, lead us to sup- 
pose that there is a further purpose appended to 



382 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



the primary one of declaring the displeasure of 
God against sin. 

If death be punitive, so likewise is the ne- 
cessity imposed upon man of toiling for his 
subsistence ; and so is that constitution which 
secures the perpetuation of the species : and 
yet the most signal of all the natural benefits 
which he receives from his Maker are con- 
sequent, directly or indirectly, upon the law of 
labour, and upon the sexual relationship. These 
appointments were a curse in form, but a bless- 
ing in fact. Or if it be still true that each of 
the three preserves and displays its punitive 
character, it is not less true of the second and 
the third (the entire operation of which we can 
observe) that the penalty crowns itself with 
praise, in the good it confers ; a direct analogy 
would lead us then to presume as much con- 
cerning the first. Or it would authorize the 
conclusion that, as the necessity of labour, and 
the mutual dependence of the sexes, are found 
to be the occasion of advancement and of de- 
light, when man is wise and humane, although 
of misery, when he is ignorant and ferocious, so 
death secures some special advantage to the 
good ; while to the bad it can shew none but its 
primary vindictive intention. 

The many intimations we gather from the 
Scriptures on this subject forbid it to be thought 
that death is a blank pause in the course of 
the human system,, or a fruitless arrest and 



THE DISSOLUTION OF HUMAN NATURE. 383 

interruption of the process of that intellectual 
and moral life which had so lately commenced. 
On the contrary, the notices of the inspired 
volume imply that it is rather the. means of 
evolving certain higher principles of that life, 
with a view to the ultimate advancement of our 
nature. If, for a moment, we might speak of 
that state of which death is the introduction, as a 
stage in the natural history of man, we should 
presume it to be a season of germination, during 
which preparatives are going on for a new con- 
struction of the elements of life, to more advan- 
tage, or on a more expanded model. The fact 
being, that the spiritual and the physical parts of 
our nature are to be thus severed, and held in 
disunion during an extended period, and yet are 
afterwards to be recomposed, it would seem pro- 
bable that the spiritual part (which survives) 
will then be occupied in bringing to maturity 
some of those powers, or in cherishing those 
habits, that were the most obstructed by the 
movements of the physical machinery (which 
falls to the dust) ; or in other words, that a new 
balance of the powers of human nature is con- 
templated, for which preparation must be made 
by allowing a long and uninterrupted play to 
certain faculties, as freed from others. 

In attempting, for a moment, an inquiry on 
this subject, it will be neither necessary nor 
proper to advance upon the arduous ground 
of abstruse or metaphysical science ; since, 



384 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



except with a view to practical inferences, a 
theme like this would not here be introduced. 
And assuredly practical inferences in matters of 
religion must be drawn from facts or principles 
known to all men ; or at least familiarly intel- 
ligible to all, when clearly stated. 

Every one then, how little soever he may be 
conversant with Intellectual Philosophy, must 
be conscious of the reality of the distinction 
commonly made between those emotions that 
belong to the imagination, and those that spring 
from what is termed — the Moral Sense. Nothing 
is much more trite or simple than this classifica- 
tion of our feelings ; and the rudest understand- 
ing perceives the essential dissimilarity of these 
two classes of our emotions. Even the illiterate 
and the vulgar so far observe the difference in 
their use of language, as to prove that it is broad 
and real, not nice or theoretic. 

Now no one can need to have it proved to 
him, that piety and virtue take their range alto- 
gether among the emotions of the latter, not 
among those of the former class. No one 
imagines that the conceptions he may form 
(how just soever they may be) of the Immensity, 
the Eternity, or the Omnipotence of the Supreme 
Being, will of themselves make him a religious 
man : he may conceive all that is sublime, or 
magnificent, or awful, quite independently of 
any affections that ought to be called virtuous. 



THE DISSOLUTION OF HUMAN NATURE. 385 

We must think of God as absolutely Holy, as 
Just, and Good, if we would worship, love, and 
serve him : that is to say, the emotions of the 
moral sense must be awakened, if we are to 
become religious. 

The Imagination and the Moral Emotions 
are not only very distinct; but they are very 
differently related to our physical organization ; 
and this difference few persons can have failed 
to notice. Both alike are attended with some 
correspondent movement in the animal frame, 
more or less conspicuous. And both alike are 
liable to be enhanced or repressed by causes 
that belong to the animal structure : in both 
classes there is action and reaction, between Mind 
and Matter. But the difference is this — That 
the emotions which strictly attach to the moral 
sense, or to the notion of good and evil, of 
right and wrong, and which have no connexion 
either with the imagination, or the selfish pas- 
sions, although, when intense, they affect the 
physical frame, and either quicken or retard the 
ordinary movements of life, do so in a manner 
that is tranquil and safe, both to the body and 
the mind, Excitements of this sort are always 
limited ; nor are they liable to rapid augmen- 
tations, such as would endanger either health 
or reason. Indeed in most cases the animal 
excitement or agitation is greater in the first 
moments of moral emotion, than afterwards ; and 
c c 



386 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



although, on a sudden occasion of this sort, the 
pulse may be accelerated, and the spirits hurried, 
this movement subsides, even while the inward 
sentiment is becoming more and more acute. 

It is otherwise with those emotions that 
quicken the imagination ; especially with such 
of them as are very vivid and profound. These 
stand so much more intimately connected with 
the laws of animal life, or, in other words, the 
affinity or sympathy between mind and matter 
is, in this department, so immediate, that a 
dangerous correspondence takes place between 
the mental emotion and the bodily excitement, 
and not only so, but as long as the emotion 
continues, the excitement goes on to heighten ; 
and if the former be at all enhanced, the latter 
mounts up with fearful rapidity. Strong imagi- 
native emotions at once shake the structure of 
animal life, and endanger the integrity of reason ; 
and they do so, as it seems, because, instead of 
spending their force outwardly (as the affections 
of the moral sense do) they bear inwardly, more 
and more, upon the centre of the soul, and so 
accumulate their force every moment, and aggra- 
vate its physical effects. 

All this is well understood by persons of a 
highly sensitive temperament, who, if they are 
prudent, carefully abstain from surrendering 
themselves to any feelings that include impres- 
sions of wonder, terror, or sublimity ; or even of 
admiration, or dramatic sympathy. That rapid 



THE DISSOLUTION OF HUMAN NATURE. 387 

progression which is characteristic of these feel- 
ings quickly bears away the resistance of reason, 
and gains a mastery over the will. Damage 
to the mind, or to the body, or to both, en- 
sues, unless the exciting cause be presently 
removed. And while the milder and more 
agreeable imaginative sentiments debilitate the 
intellectual and animal systems, if too fre- 
quently indulged, or indulged to excess, the 
stronger and more painful emotions rend and 
distract both. Ideas of vastness, infinity, and 
irresistible power, are to be admitted only with 
caution, if the mind be highly susceptible of 
their influence. Such minds are conscious, 
often, that they are approaching the brink of 
an abyss, whence they must hastily retire — or 
be lost. The eye, the ear, the heart, must be 
diverted, and filled with whatever is common, 
familiar, or trivial. 

These well-known facts are all we need now 
have to do with ; nor are we obliged to descend 
beneath the surface, as if to explore the occult 
conformation of human nature. Instead of doing 
so, we must note another remarkable difference 
between the Moral and Imaginative emotions, 
resulting from their connexion severally with 
the body. It is this— that, when both are in 
activity together, the latter, in consequence, 
as it seems, of a stronger affinity with animal 
life, almost always, and very quickly, pre- 
vail over the former, and expel them from the 



388 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



soul : the moral fades, and the imaginative 
brightens. 

Nothing is more frequent than such combina- 
tions ; the structure of the visible world, in all its 
parts, produces them. Impressions of grandeur 
or beauty, of sublimity, of power, of destructive 
force, or of malignant violence, are conveyed 
often by the very same objects, or on the same 
occasions, which excite either the gentler affec- 
tions of love, gratitude, or pity, or the more 
stern sentiments of rectitude and truth. In such 
instances, ordinarily, the first species of feeling 
intimately combines itself with the second, so 
that to sever the two is almost impracticable : as 
a giant closely grasps him whom he is about to 
throw to the earth, and crush. But when in 
combination, the better element is apt to merge 
or disappear. Hence arises the fatal facility 
wherewith imaginative spirits pass over from the 
solid ground of piety and virtue, to the illusory 
region of enthusiastic excitement. It is not true 
that the religious and virtuous affections have to 
make head only against animal desires, or malig- 
nant passions ; for they must also maintain their 
ground in opposition to the more insidious en- 
croachments of imaginative impressions ; and 
these, intimately mingled as they are with all 
our feelings (to subserve an important purpose) 
give no warning of inimical intention. 

If we would duly appreciate the advantage pos- 
sessed by imaginative emotions, in consequence 



THE DISSOLUTION OF HUMAN NATURE. 389 



of their close alliance with the animal frame, 
we must reflect upon what not seldom takes 
place in sleep, when the voluntary functions 
being suspended, and the susceptibility of the 
nervous system greatly diminished, images of 
sublimity or terror, such as, while waking, the 
mind dares not dwell upon, pass in still pomp 
before the mental vision. Through the hushed 
palace of fancy a vast or threatening pageant 
moves on — powerless and innoxious. Or if 
some faint excitement accompanies the dream, 
it is incomparably less than would be produced 
by the same spectacle, attended by the same im- 
pression of reality, in a waking hour. In pre- 
sence of the most appalling ideal objects, the 
spirit, conscious, yet quiescent, and as if it 
knew itself to be a secure spectator of the 
scene, looks on, or even takes its sport in 
freakish mood, with fantastic or ludicrous con- 
ceptions, and seems to enjoy a pastime ; now 
with laughable absurdities, now with gigantic 
horrors ! 

Thus it appears that the Imagination, though 
not a whit less active during sleep than at other 
times (perhaps more so) has lost then, by the 
quiescence of the animal functions, its power of 
domineering over the system. In truth we ought 
here to admire the beneficent contrivance which 
has so blended the human frame as that, when 
the controlling faculty of reason is suspended, 
the liability to perilous agitation from ideal objects 



390 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



is also in abeyance. If it were otherwise, our 
dreams would be our masters ; nay, the most 
cruel tyrants ; and we should be liable to start 
from sleep to madness. 

And now let it be supposed (we advance 
merely an hypothesis) that it is an indispensable 
part of the education of the spirit, with a view 
to its ultimate destiny, to bring it, if we might 
so speak, within and among the stupendous 
inner-movements of the universe ; or to afford it 
a full view of objects, personages, and actions, 
the merest glimpse of which, constituted as we 
are of matter and mind, would dissever the 
frail structure of nature ; or would at least so 
excite the imagination as to overpower entirely 
the moral sense. But it is this very sense of 
good and evil, this moral perception, and the 
tranquil affections attaching thereto, that are 
to be brought into activity, and to be employed 
upon the amazing scenes of the Interior 
World. 

By our alliance with matter we are detained 
on the surface of things ; and are conversant 
only with semblances, and with effects. But it 
remains for us, perhaps, to become conversant 
with substances and with causes : we must go 
and contemplate the deep secrets of God's em- 
pire. We must be led up and down among the 
works, and gaze upon the reason of things. And 
yet this intuition is to produce its whole effect, 



THE DISSOLUTION OF HUMAN NATURE. 391 

undisturbed and unmixed, upon the faculties 
which constitute man a moral and responsible 
being. These faculties, therefore, are to be set 
at large from their affinity with all those inter- 
mediate sentiments which, in the present state, 
form the amalgam of mind and matter. 

The separate spirit is then (on this supposi- 
tion) to be thrown upon the play of its affec- 
tions, whether these be benign or malign, pure 
or depraved ; and it is moreover to be thrown 
upon them in presence of objects of the most 
stupendous magnitude. In place of the mea- 
sured and mingled emotions of the present life, 
there are to be encountered, in the next stage 
of our existence, excitements of overwhelming 
force, and all of one quality. And amid them 
the soul, quiescent in regard to what might 
move it to wonder or terror, is to be nakedly 
sensitive to the moral quality of what it be- 
holds. The notions of right and wrong, of 
good and evil, the emotions of love or hatred, 
of joy or sorrow, of complacency or compunc- 
tion, which here take turns for a moment, or for 
an hour, with a thousand divers affections, and 
so are always abated, and very quickly diverted, 
shall there hold undisputed empire, shall be 
countervailed by no rival or antagonist power. 
Human nature, thus reduced to its most simple 
element, shall exist in one mood only, that of 
an intense consciousness of its own moral con- 
dition ! 



392 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



The whole economy of revealed religion 
hinges on the doctrine that the commixture of 
good and evil we see around us, belongs to the 
present state alone, and shall disappear in the 
next. That is to say, that the abhorrent prin- 
ciples which here, by a sort of violence, are held 
in combination, shall, when the temporary pur- 
pose of their union is accomplished, divide, to 
right and left, and with irresistible avulsion fly 
off to opposite quarters. If so, it is only natural 
to suppose that each new comer upon that region 
of separate elements shall pass, as if by a phy- 
sical necessity, to the side he is allied to, whether 
for the better or the worse. The sphere that 
encircles whatever is holy, and that which em- 
braces all evil, must draw to themselves, seve- 
rally, all particles of kindred quality. Nothing 
can there float at large ; but must fall in upon 
its proper centre, and so abide. 

And yet any such absolute partition of human 
spirits may seem not to bear analogy with the 
present order of things, wherein no conspicuous 
distinction offers itself to our perceptions, broad 
enough to be made the ground of a classification 
so simple. What soul is so base as to retain 
no particle of goodness? or what so pure, as 
to be wholly free from alloy? The Scriptures 
solve this difficulty ; and while they affirm, in 
the most positive manner, the future division 
of the good and evil, indicate plainly the rule 
on which it shall proceed. If merits and defects; 



THE DISSOLUTION OF HUMAN NATURE. 393 

virtues and vices, were, in the instance of each 
human spirit, to be summed up and balanced, 
(the supposition is absurd) and the fate of each 
to be determined according to the preponderance 
of good or evil, it must happen, in innumerable 
cases, that a decision so momentous would turn 
upon an incalculably minute excess of the pre- 
ponderating quality. 

The scriptural doctrine of two states — good 
and evil, can never be conceived of as the issue 
of the human system, without admitting some 
rule far more absolute and simple than that of 
a balance of merits. No controversy can arise 
concerning this necessary rule. Of every human 
spirit it may be said that it possesses, or not, 
that affection to God which, when freed from 
the embarrassments that here surround us, will 
spring up toward its object, will break away, 
exultant, from every defilement, and connect 
the created to the uncreated Spirit, between 
which a real alliance had already taken place. 
Has then the soul, at the moment when its 
active powers are broken up, and when it is 
launched upon the severed elements of good and 
evil, has it been quickened toward the Moral 
Perfections of the Supreme Being ? Has it yet 
entertained, or not, the rudiment of love, of 
loyalty, and of submission to the divine govern- 
ment ? Is it affiliated to God ; or is it estranged 
and in rebellion ? Does it abhor the contamination 
of its present state ? Has it sympathy with the 



394 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



worship that encircles the throne of the Most 
High ; or is it destitute both of the emo- 
tions, and of the habits, of grateful and joyous 
adoration ? 

What is the conception which, individually, 
we entertain of future felicity ? Is God the 
desired centre and fountain of the happiness we 
think of; or does the mind draw its idea of 
heaven (if at all it thinks of heaven) with 
atheistic perversity, from those elements of 
pleasure which the present life affords ? The 
answer to these questions must discriminate 
spirit from spirit, when each, in its moral element 
only, enters the world where moral elements 
are parted. 

Every one might then readily imagine the 
state into which the dissolution of the body 
must plunge him, by conceiving of himself as 
stript of all faculties, and all emotions, but those 
that belong to the moral sentiments ; and as so 
confronted with the unsullied brightness of the 
Divine Majesty. To die, is to come, denuded 
of all but conscience, into the open presence 
of the Holy One. 



XXIV. 

THE STATE OF SOULS. 

" THEY ALL LIVE UNTO GOD." 



The Christian doctrine of the resurrection of 
the body implies far more than was ever con- 
tained in the conjectures of sages, or of poets, 
who thought of nothing better, in their concep- 
tion of an after life, than a dream-like leisure — - 
dim and unproductive, and of a sort that has 
no affinity with the actual principles of human 
nature. 

Little better can be said of the common notions 
of Christians on this subject, who, although they 
are mainly right, so far as they follow the 
suggestions of devout sentiment, fall short of 
that idea of the ultimate state of man which 
the Scriptures authorize, when they think of 
immortality only as an elysium ; more pure in- 
deed, and more bright than that of the Greeks, 
but not more fraught with the elements of 
action. Piety seizes upon the principal ingredient 
of eternal life, and neglects all beside. But this 
notion, which contains one idea merely, although 
the principal, is applicable only to that pre- 
paratory state, in which the rudiment of human 



396 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



nature alone survives; and very imperfectly cor- 
responds with the ultimate, or restored and ma- 
ture state, wherein the rudiment gathers around 
it again the various constituents of intellectual, 
moral, and physical existence. 

The tendency to subtilize in whatever is future 
and unknown, has plainly carried the meditations 
of Christians wide of the track upon which the 
intimations of Scripture, fairly pursued, would 
lead us. The re-organization of the body neces- 
sarily implies the restoration of the mutual de- 
pendency of mind and matter; it implies, that man 
shall have again, as at first, to conform himself 
to the laws of an external world, shall blend in 
his own nature the diverse elements of the natural 
and the spiritual system, shall entertain, once 
more, those mixed sentiments that result from 
such a union ; shall, in a word, become again, 
and for ever, a creature of action, desire, advance- 
ment; of knowledge, enterprise, and achieve- 
ment. He shall move in a sphere that will 
demand from him forethought, courage, and 
wisdom ; as well as give play to his affections. 

All this might be distinctly inferred from those 
passages of the Inspired Volume which speak of 
the after life. But nothing of the sort can belong 
to the state of dissolution, which retains only the 
first rudiment of existence, and in which active 
powers, as well as wants, are suspended. The 
season of denudation must certainly possess a 
character altogether unlike that which precedes, 



THE STATE OF SOULS. 



397 



or that which follows it ; nor can it well be 
thought to include progression, or change, which 
imply the working of the parts or functions of 
human nature, one upon the other ; and there- 
fore demand complexity, and construction of 
elements. 

Something, clearly, must be assumed as con- 
stituting the ultimate principle of our nature ; 
or that towards which all other faculties tend, 
and to which they stand related as means. It 
were most irrational to name as an ultimate 
principle, any power which is by office subser- 
vient, and which is exerted always with a refe- 
rence to some ulterior purpose. For example ; 
the senses, the appetites, and the instincts of 
the animal frame, are plainly nothing more than 
instruments, of which no explanation can be 
given until something beyond themselves is 
taken into account. The reasoning faculty, 
also, not less than the senses, or the bodily 
instincts, is always subservient to some end. 
Reason labours to achieve a particular purpose, 
or to resolve a given doubt, and is impelled by a 
motive derived from that purpose. Reason then 
is not the rudiment of human nature. With even 
less appearance of truth could we assign any 
such honour to Memory, or Imagination. As 
well affirm that a man exists and acts, only that 
he may keep a diary of his movements ; or that 
the record is the motive of the life. 



398 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



We can come home to nothing in our sur- 
vey of human nature, but the affections and 
moral emotions ; for these are not subservient, 
and are not governed by ulterior purposes. It 
is upon these that the soul may repose. We 
advance a step then. If the moral sentiments 
and the affections are the prime principles of 
our nature, and if their actual condition, or the 
habits that attach to them, determine the cha- 
racter, they must, in a sovereign manner, decide 
the fate of every one, for the better or the 
worse, in that moment when the spirit enters 
upon the region where no susceptibilities are 
awake ; or, which is the same thing, where no 
objects are found but such as affect the moral 
powers. If, when the connexion with matter is 
dissolved, an immediate consciousness is to be 
had of the Divine Presence, there can be no 
more room left for mixed or ambiguous moral 
sentiments. The spirit, quick throughout with 
the feeling of good and evil, is surrounded on 
every side with the Great Object of all such 
feelings ; even as the mote that swims in the 
brightness of the upper skies, is encompassed 
with the effulgence of noon. — To die, is to burst 
upon the blaze of Uncreated Light, and to be 
sensitive to its beams, and to nothing else ! 

Among those numerous passages of the Sacred 
Volume which bear upon the separate state, 
few, if any will be found, that do not directly 
convey, or indirectly authenticate the belief, 



THE STATE OF SOULS. 



399 



that the realm of the dead — of the pious dead, 
is in a special manner the scene of Perpetual 
Worship. It is there that the devout affections, 
undisturbed by other faculties, are incessantly 
in efflux. Adoration and love, it is true, are 
found in all states or stages of intelligent exist- 
ence ; but in the place of souls, worship is the 
one occupation ; shall we say, that it is the 
unchanging mode of that rudimental life ? Of 
the pious dead it may, on this supposition, be 
affirmed, in a sense peculiar or characteristic, 
that they " all live unto God." Whatever may 
be the special ground of argument in our Lord's 
reply to the Sadducees, the emphatic phrase 
he employs when he speaks of the patriarchs, 
must be granted to convey the idea we now 
assume. Abraham and his faithful sons are not 
extinct, as your doctrine supposes ; for, long 
after their disappearance from earth, Jehovah 
affirms his actual relationship to them, and 
uses it as the motive of his gracious procedures 
towards their descendants : " they all Live unto 
God." Shall God then, in whose presence they 
exist, fail to fulfil the promise he had made 
them ? 

The many dim phrases that are scattered 
over the surface of the Hebrew Scriptures, and 
of which the reader of modern versions takes 
little or no account, but which make allusion 
to the Invisible World, are in harmony with 
the same notion. The fathers are " gone into 



400 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Peace ;" they abide " under the shadow of the 
Almighty," who is " the dwelling-place" of his 
people, " through all generations ;" they remain 
" in His secret chamber" (the holy of holies) ; 
they dwell " in his Tabernacle ;" or " stand in 
his Pavilion ;" and are there " the expectants of 
Jehovah," continually watching the movements 
of his hand. 

The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews 
favours, by obscure intimations, as well as by the 
purport of his argument, the Jewish opinion that 
the Tabernacle, and the worship established by 
Moses in the Arabian desert, was a symbolic model 
of the invisible economy of spirits. In framing 
it, Moses was commanded to keep in mind, in 
every particular, the pattern " shewed him in 
the mount ;" and it is not improbable that a 
careful and erudite consideration of the Mosaic 
Liturgical Institute might give some distinctness 
to our conceptions of that state, the state into 
which the few brief days of mortal life are to 
bring every " true worshipper." It is very easy 
to discern in the Tabernacle service first, a 
proximate, or external and secular intention, 
which reached its end in its immediate influence 
upon the people. But beside this, and com- 
patibly therewith (as all expositors but the most 
sceptical admit) the same worship held forth, 
from age to age, a mute prophecy of " good 
things to come ;" that is to say, of the media- 
torial scheme, afterwards to be brought into 



THE STATE OF SOULS. 



401 



effect, and made known. Yet a third intention 
(as we suppose) ran through every article of 
the " worldly sanctuary/' adumbrating the un- 
earthly and spiritual system. 

Thus in the farthest recess of that Sacred 
pavilion of the God and King of Israel, was dis- 
played the visible splendour of the Divine Pre- 
sence : high above it, externally, and in view of 
all, towered the cloudy column, alternately dark 
and resplendent. Before the Shechinah crouched 
the cherubic symbols of the incessant adoration 
of the celestial orders. The tokens of the me- 
diatorial covenant, the insignia of the spiritual 
kingdom, rested at the foot of the throne. To 
this inner chamber the Mediator alone had 
access ; and there, by his intercession, main- 
tained propitious intercourse between the Di- 
vine Majesty and the remoter worshippers. 
Without the veil were seen the seven lamps, 
the cheering radiance of Spiritual Illumination ; 
and thence also went up the perpetual incense of 
prayer. Far spread around this " house not 
made with hands," not raised by labour, or 
constructed of solid materials, were ranged the 
assembled thousands of Israel, in devout expec- 
tation, while they took part in the loud and 
responsive anthem of praise. " Thither the 
tribes went up ; every one of them appeared 
before God in Zion." 

To this invisible tabernacle, and to this 
perpetual liturgy, and to this expectation, Paul, 

D D 



402 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



as we believe, made allusion when, before 
Agrippa, he spoke of the " twelve-tribed body 
(the complement of true Israelites) as intently 
and incessantly worshipping God in hope of a 
happy resurrection, as promised to the Fathers;"* 
a promise never made, or never officially made 
to them on earth ; (it was reserved for the 
Messiah to promulgate authoritatively, in this 
world, the doctrine of the life to come) but 
conveyed to them, on their entrance upon the 
world of souls ; and there they, " not having 
yet received the promise," but waiting through 
the destined lapse of ages, u keep their Sabbath," 
until He " whose memorial is with them," shall 
arise suddenly from his throne within the veil, 
and come forth to accomplish the " redemption 
of the body." 

The worship of the world of spirits is declared 
to be subjected to the conditions of the Media- 
torial scheme. Christ " lived, and died, and 
revived," that is to say, passed in due course 
over all the ground of human existence, that 
he might, as an experienced Leader, " exercise 
domination both over the dead and the living." 
He is emphatically styled — ' ' Shepherd and 

* And now I stand accused on account of a hope in the 
promise given by God to the fathers ; even the very same 
which is the object of the expectation of the twelve tribes 
(our Church) now employed in perpetual and intent worship, 
iv inTZvdq. vvKra kcu rifjipap Xarpevov. 



THE STATE OF SOULS. 



403 



Bishop of souls;" and is the Lord of Paradise, 
" holding the keys of Hades/' after having over- 
thrown the tyrant of the invisible world. In the 
apocalyptic visions, He appears, once and again, 
surrounded by the great company of expectant 
spirits, to whom he administers consolations, fit 
for a season of delay. Nevertheless, although the 
Divine Majesty is in that world to be approached 
through him who is the " way unto the Father," 
it is reasonable to believe that the state after 
death will be one of great advancement in rela- 
tion to the sensible, or rather unambiguous per- 
ception of the Divine Being. Let it be granted 
that the office of Mediator implies, necessarily, 
so long as it endures, a reserve and concealment 
on the part of God : so, while the priesthood of 
Aaron came between Jehovah and the people, 
the Shechinah abode within the veil; yet do 
the worshippers enjoy such evidence of the pre- 
sence of God as sets them entirely free from 
the discouragements of earthly worship. The 
ancient Israel, though they might not gaze upon 
the " excellent glory " that blazed upon the 
mercy-seat and the cherubim, beheld at all 
times the pillar of cloud and fire, which declared 
that the King was actually with his people. 

And it may well be believed that the human 
spirit, disengaged from animal organization, be- 
comes conscious of God in a manner that leaves 
no room thenceforward, either for testimony in 
proof of the great truth, or for argument. If 
d d 2 



404 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



these two theorems could be proposed to us an- 
tecedently to experience, and the question put — 
Whether is easier, for an intelligent nature to 
become immediately conscious of the Supreme 
Intelligence ; or for it to be consciously con- 
joined with matter, and its properties ? would 
not reason determine in favour of the first ? 
And yet, if this connexion with matter is to be 
indeed effected, there seems to be necessarily 
implied therein a loss, for the time, of the im- 
mediate perception of God. That is to say, in 
descending to a close alliance with matter, so as 
to be liable to impressions from its properties, 
and to have the power of affecting them by its 
volitions, Mind surrenders its native perception of 
Him who is a Spirit. If it be so, then of course 
a physical impossibility stands in the way of our 
conceiving of that immediate perception of God 
which our present alliance with matter intercepts. 
A spirit not yet embodied might as well conceive 
of weight, hardness, colour, sound, as a spirit not 
yet disembodied imagine the sense it is ere long 
to have of the Spiritual Being. Yet analogy 
would lead us to suppose that, if the conviction 
we now possess of the reality of the external 
world be strong, so strong that we never 
seriously entertain a doubt of it, the future con- 
sciousness of the Divine existence, the know- 
ledge of His presence, will be incomparably 
more vivid and more potent ; yes, that this 
consciousness shall encircle cind absorb the 



THE STATE OF SOULS. 



405 



soul. If mind could so intimately converse with 
a subsistence foreign to itself, how intimately 
shall it converse with that subsistence with which 
it is natively homogeneous ! Then shall we 
" know, even as we are known." 

And yet, although we must fail in attempt- 
ing to conceive of the future mode of existence, 
there must belong to the present state certain 
connective rudiments of the next. And we 
have assurance that when the devout affec- 
tions, informed, enlivened, elevated, by the 
Spirit who " helpeth our infirmities," are im- 
mediately concerned with their proper objects, 
that is to say, the moral perfections of the 
Divine Nature, a true approximation is taking 
place to that intimate converse to which the 
dissolution of the body shall give room. Chris- 
tians, though they can offer no external demon- 
stration of the fact, or such as they might 
spread before others, are entitled to say, " Truly 
our fellowship is with the Father and the Son ;" 
and this genuine persuasion, more vivid than 
any argument, bears them through the sorrows 
and fears of the present state. It is by this con- 
sciousness that they " endure, as seeing Him 
who is invisible." 

We must here note, in passing, the essential 
folly of the enthusiast, who, contemning the true 
and purifying discernment of God in the bright- 
ness of his moral attributes, seeks in its stead 
certain flashes of the animal spirits, which he 



406 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



deems to be better proof of the presence of God 
than " joy, and peace, and assurance, in the 
Spirit." He turns away from the divine con- 
verse of the heart with its Regenerator ; and 
reverts, as a child or novice, to the earthly 
elements of turbulent or passionate emotion. 
Give him but a bauble, and he will at any time 
throw away the jewel. He would be more 
delighted could you promise him a dazzling 
vision, which should have nothing in it but a 
blaze, than with that glory which shineth into 
the hearts of the children of God, admitting 
them to behold the true image of God, in the 
person of his Son. And if you call in question 
the genuineness of this, his bad preference, he 
says, ' You deny all that is divine and peculiar 
in the Gospel, and oppugn the truth that Christ 
manifests himself to his people as he does not to 
the world.' 

The ordinary process of knowledge, or that 
natural order whereby, in the present state 
(revelation apart) we attain any conception of 
God, is an ascent from the natural to the moral 
attributes. In following certain abstract notions 
we infer his eternity, and infinitude ; then we 
read the displays of his power, and wisdom, and 
bounty in the visible world ; and we go on 
to assign to him, holiness and goodness. This 
method regulates in great measure,, all our theo- 
logical notions and religious sentiments. We 



THE STATE OF SOULS. 



407 



dwell much upon that which in truth is secon- 
dary, or mediate, and see only at a distance 
that which is primary and essential. By the 
ladder of reason we have gone up to behold the 
Most High, and so are we apt to frequent the 
same artificial line of approach, even when we 
draw near for worship. 

The Spirit of Grace takes us by another path, 
and shews us that the moral perfections are the 
end and reason of the natural. And who can 
doubt but that, when matter and its dark sym- 
bols are done with, what is principal shall seem 
so ? In bursting from the confinement of the 
body, the spirit shall, with amazement perhaps, 
in a moment reverse the order of its old con- 
ceptions; and almost cease to think of om- 
nipotence, eternity, infinitude, while the more 
dominant notions of purity, and blessedness, 
and love, fill the soul. This revolution must, 
if we might so say, immensely reduce the 
apparent distance between the created and Un- 
created Mind; for so long as the first-named 
class of notions has principal possession of our 
thoughts, the impression that prevails is that 
of immeasurable disparity ; and of course, the 
more we meditate on these themes, the more is 
such an impression enhanced. But although 
the disparity between God and his intelligent 
creatures is as absolute in the attributes of good- 
ness or holiness, as in those of power and wis- 
dom, there belongs to the former a homogeneity 



408 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



which affords ground of communion between 
God and man. The conversion of the heart 
to God is a bringing God near to us ; for this 
reason, that we thenceforward think of Him 
more in His moral than His natural attributes. 
We approach the throne by a direct path, and in 
the stead of the mute awe which heretofore had 
held us far from the Incomprehensible Being, 
we admit an intimate and personal affection, not 
untruly symbolized by the relationship of children 
to a father. 

The dissolution of the body must consummate 
this same approximation, if it has already had 
its commencement. Love, casting out fear, will 
then reach its climax ; and all reclaimed souls 
shall drink of the " river of pleasures that 
makes glad the city of God : " all shall " live 
unto God." 

It were presumptuous and culpable to con- 
struct theories concerning that which is un- 
known, upon the ground merely of abstract 
analogies : nevertheless, so long as a due modesty 
is observed in such attempts, and especially 
while the dim intimations of Scripture are kept 
constantly in sight, mischief will hardly accrue 
from endeavouring to follow our meditations a 
step farther. 

What then, we may ask, shall be the rule of 
rank or order in that invisible world ? What 
the law of relative position ? Shall an arbitrary 



THE STATE OF SOULS. 



409 



or an accidental location be admitted ; or shall 
there be an invariable prevalence of some prin- 
ciple, founded upon the reason of things, and 
the qualities of the subject ? The latter, surely, 
seems the preferable supposition. At least 
it may be affirmed that all apparent confusion 
or irregularity results, in the present state, as 
might soon be proved, from the interaction of 
several causes upon more than one element. On 
the contrary, absolute uniformity takes place, or, 
which is the same thing, the juxta-position of 
things unlike and unequal is excluded, wherever 
one or two causes operate upon a simple and 
single substance. Now if there be truth in 
this maxim (and corroborations of it might be 
drawn from all parts of nature, and from all the 
sciences) then it would seem more than barely 
probable that, in the region to which souls are 
consigned (those denuded rudiments of life) each 
spirit shall fall into its rank, as if in obedience 
to the law of the actual affinity with the Divine 
Nature. Or as if the concentric circles of 
worship that embrace the tabernacle of glory 
should determine the position of all spirits, 
according to the rule of love and purity. How 
many those circles may be, or how vast the 
space they enclose, we know not. Perhaps the 
disparity in light and joy between the inner 
circles, and the remotest orbits, may be immense. 
These matters are all beyond surmise. Mean- 
while, and until truth and knowledge burst upon 



410 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



us, we may each revert to the secrecy of the 
soul, and each ask how such a law of rank 
as we have imagined, would affect his particular 
case ? Or whether the habits of the mind, 
its ordinary and characteristic emotions, would 
bring it near to the Majesty in the heavens, 
or remove it to the very verge of the sphere of 
joy and hope. 

— Yes, and who shall not put to himself the 
previous question, momentous as it is, whether 
the soul has yet at all acquired fitness for that 
state, which has no alternative, but either to join 
in perpetual worship, or to look to the Father of 
Spirits as a Stranger, and to the Omnipotent 
as an Adversary ? 



XXV. 

THE THIRD HEAVENS. 



" IN THY PRESENCE IS FULNESS OF JOY : AT THY RIGHT 
HAND ARE PLEASURES FOR EVERMORE." 



As without evangelical principles there can 
be no sound morality, so, without the aid of 
heavenly meditation, morality, even if stanch 
and consistent, must want greatness, dignity, and 
purity ; nor can it recommend itself by those 
shining graces that ought to adorn the religion 
of Christ. Our ordinary conduct is determined 
much more by the general tone of our feelings, 
than by the direct force of precepts and prohibi- 
tions. The heart is in a perilous state when the 
vulgar solicitations of appetite, interest, or pride^ 
are encountered and opposed only by the ulti- 
mate or strongest motives that may be applicable 
to the occasion. Virtue ought to be defended at 
a greater distance from its centre than when it 
wrestles, hand to hand, with its opponent vices. 

It is the frequent and intimate converse of the 
heart with things heavenly, that must impart to 
the soul its higher tastes, and shed upon its stern 



412 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



principles the lustre of a generous elevation. 
And if meditation of the future and invisible 
worlds be liable to abuse, or may sometimes de- 
generate into insipid or presumptuous conceits, 
it is only when the first principles of the Gospel, 
which should control all our meditations, are lost 
sight of. The contemplatist goes astray when 
he forgets himself, and his Guide ; that is to say, 
when he muses idly of heaven, as if there had 
been no transgression on earth, and as if there 
were no redemption. The difficulty also, as 
well as the hazard of such attempts to rise above 
the present scene, or to penetrate the invisible 
world, is enhanced, or indeed rendered insupera- 
ble, when our actual position, as those who have 
been restored is not kept in mind ; but, on the 
contrary, it is obviated while we look to Him 
who, as Precursor, has trodden all the path of 
existence, even from the low starting-point of 
humanity, through death and Hades, to the 
upper region of perpetual pleasure. 

Even supposing faculties and powers to be 
the same, far more may be achieved, in any 
line, by the aid of a definite invigorating motive, 
than without it : of this every one is conscious ; 
and the principle is signally exemplified in the 
instance of the Christian, who, in proportion to 
the firmness of his personal assurance of salvation, 
finds, not only that he can meet the difficulties, 
and discharge the duties of his earthly course, 
with more ease, but can soar upward, or bring 



THE THIRD HEAVENS. 



413 



home to his conceptions matters which once 
seemed too high to be approached. Apart from 
the hope of the Gospel, who is there that rumi- 
nates upon the felicity of heaven ? Even if the 
human mind were better qualified than it is to 
engage in meditations of this sort, and were more 
disposed than it is to dwell upon such themes, 
the labour would want impulse, and would be 
idle and fruitless in its issue, unless connected, 
in some distinct and satisfactory manner, with a 
personal expectation of becoming a sharer in the 
future happiness. Why do not men at large 
think of heaven ? Why do not poets make im- 
mortal joy their constant theme ? Alas, because 
neither men at large, nor the most gifted minds, 
discern the way thither to be open to them- 
selves ! 

Reason assures us that the Supreme Being is, 
in the phrase of Scripture, " Blessed for ever- 
more." He to whom belongs all power, wisdom, 
and goodness, doubtless exists in the unchange- 
able fruition of absolute felicity. And reason 
may also, on the most probable grounds, assume 
that the Sovereign Beneficence sits surrounded 
by myriads of beings, participating, so far as the 
condition of finite minds admits, in that felicity. 
Or to use the language of the Hebrew poet, it 
must be granted as a necessary supposition, 
that " in the presence of God there is fulness of 
joy, and at his right hand perpetual pleasures." 



414 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Be it so : but what is this to man ? If in 
contemplation we ascend at any time to the 
high orbit of light and joy, how far must we 
lower the wing when we would return to earth ! 
The human race seems to stand almost on the 
extreme confines of happiness ; nor is there to 
be discerned any such general progression in 
the species toward a higher and better stage, as 
might assure us that we are drawing nearer^ 
however slowly, to the centre of good. The 
bright conjectures of reason and imagination 
only trouble us the more, when we bring them 
into contrast with what we see and know around 
us. Nothing effectively relieves this gloom until 
He appears, who, laying aside uncreated glories, 
" was made flesh and dwelt among us." It is 
this Christian Mystery, and nothing else, that 
gives substance to the meditation of things purer 
and better than earth. 

One might think that the Royal Poet had had 
in view the entire circle of the universal realm, 
from its utmost verge to its centre, when (as in 
the person of Messiah) after surveying the long 
path of life, he looks to its termination on high, 
and thus concludes, " in thy presence is fulness 
of joy ; at thy right hand are pleasures for ever- 
more." The language is tropical, and perhaps 
has more than one allusion ; but the most 
obvious of these (if indeed there be more than 
one) is to a kingdom or polity, consisting of 



THE THIRD HEAVENS. 



415 



many ranks and gradations, spread over an ex- 
tensive surface, and in the metropolis of which 
are held the incessant festivities of regal state. 
The condition of oriental monarchies better 
illustrates the figure than what is seen in mo- 
dern and western countries. In an Asiatic 
empire, there is first the wretched and vilified 
class, upon which the superincumbent structure 
of the social system presses so heavily as almost 
to crush existence, often actually to crush it, 
and always to render life undesirable. The urgent 
wants of nature are never provided for beyond 
the present moment, the most abhorrent suste- 
nance is furtively snatched from the dust ; while 
contempt, servitude, and pain, stand by to im- 
bitter the insufficient meal! Shall these abjects, 
these victims, these outcasts, know any thing of 
pleasure ? Yes, even these shall snatch a joy, 
for human nature does not readily throw off its 
instinct of happiness. But pleasure, to such, 
must be intemperate and frantic, as it is hurried 
and stolen : the hour of enjoyment, if enjoy- 
ment it should be called, is as murky as it must 
be, hemmed in before and behind by necessities 
and woes. Or shall we look into the hovel 
which serves as the last shelter of wretchedness, 
and where indolent misery, bred by Vice upon 
Despair, finds a home : to its inmates (alas that 
in fact there are such) the common air has no 
balm, the light of day no brightness, nature 
no boon. The bright mornings of spring, the 



416 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



fervour of summer, its fruits and pastimes, the 
abundance and the luxuries of autumn, bring 
no gladness, no change, unless it be from one 
mode of suffering to another : the round of the 
'year is a winter. What is the word joy to 
such ? they know it not even afar off, by sight 
or hearing ; or if ever they taste a reckless 
bowl, it is one in which has first been shed some 
new anguish for to-morrow. 

To these unfortunates, the helots of mankind, 
more or less numerous in every community, 
according to the viciousness or rectitude of its 
constitution, absolutely wanting in none, suc- 
ceeds the class that, as a broad foundation, 
sustains the edifice of society. But even of 
this higher class all that can well be said is, that 
the more terrible evils incident to human life 
are just kept at bay by incessant efforts. Now for 
a moment, perhaps, the Foe is driven to a little 
distance, and a breathing-time is secured. Hope 
alights at the threshold in her hurried course to 
bless more favoured homes. But we dare hardly 
speak of happiness as belonging to this stage of 
life ; for life is still a warfare that has no truce. 

In the third stage of society, as we ascend, 
man is found so far to have gained advantage 
upon want, as that his home is no longer its 
constant residence. Woe and fear do indeed 
visit his home ; but existence is not the prey of 
either. Enjoyment is seen there, and courted ; 
and comfort makes a longer stay. 



THE THIRD HEAVENS. 



417 



But we must look much higher for the climax 
of earthly good., and shall not find it till we visit 
the palaces and halls where reside beauty, 
honour, favour ; with art, splendour, revelry ; 
where the elastic power which high privilege 
draws from security and abundance, gives grace 
to the human form, and seems to animate every 
faculty. In these mansions of indulgence, if 
Sorrow (treasonable intruder) ever sets his foot, 
he is instantly disguised in pomps, that his pallid 
visage and shrivelled form may not offend the 
eye. Even Death comes to palaces in an obse- 
quious livery of plumes ! 

In truth, Pleasure is every where the law 
of life, if power to make it so is possessed ; and 
although this order of things has justly become 
an object of reprobation to the moralist, because 
the pravity of man ordinarily brings in pride, 
cruelty, and sensuality, to be the attendants 
upon pleasure ; yet may there be read beneath 
this very perversion, great as it is, the native 
tendency, or original purpose of our confor- 
mation. We learn to fear or to frown upon 
pleasure as an enemy, and to entertain joy with 
suspicion or caution ; and we deem self-denial 
a prime part of wisdom. But this happens only 
because the world (and our hearts with it) has 
gone astray from the road of genuine felicity. 
It is not as if man was not made for felicity ; 
but he was made for quite another sort than he 
now actually chooses. The lawless or frivolous 



418 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



pleasures of mankind are only an ill sense, put 
upon the language of nature. Let but the joy 
we seek be of celestial quality, and our plea- 
sures such only as ennoble and invigorate the 
soul, and then the true purpose of existence 
is attained. Fulness of joy, and perpetuity 
of pleasure, were assuredly the end of that 
creation of which absolute Beneficence is the 
author. 

Who can question that the several gradations 
of the intelligent universe rise in degrees of en- 
joyment, as they rise in degrees of power and 
virtue ; that at each ascent there is less of what 
is subservient, and more of what is primary ; less 
toil and danger, and more tranquillity and joy ? 
And thus must the progression advance, even to 
the mount of God, the Royal abode of eternal 
and unsullied Blessedness. 

Or an allusion of a different kind was perhaps 
intended by the Hebrew monarch. When he 
said, " In thy presence is fulness of joy," he 
might be tacitly making comparison between 
the pure and cheerful worship of Jehovah, per- 
petually celebrated on Mount Zion, and the 
worship, horrid and foul, of the surrounding 
nations. We very imperfectly imagine the force 
of such a contrast, as it must have presented 
itself to an Israelite of the early and brighter 
eras of Jewish history. In modern times we 
have so much learned to look upon idolatrous 



THE THIRD HEAVENS. 



419 



worship with mere contempt, or with contempt 
and loathing, that we do not even deign to 
institute a comparison between those extremes 
of truth and error, in matters of religion, that 
are still actually to be found in the world. 
The doctrine of the unity of God is the belief 
now of all civilized nations. Error on this 
capital point is the badge of degradation, and 
of servitude ; and the word polytheist may be 
taken as convertible with the terms barbarian, 
or slave. But it was not so with the ancient 
Israel ; and the feelings of that nation of true 
worshippers must have been altogether unlike 
our own, on this point. The great contro- 
versy of truth was maintained, single-handed, 
by the pastoral and agricultural tribes of the 
southern Syria, against all mankind beside. It 
was the Hebrew family (never, if a very few 
years are excepted, evenly matched with the 
surrounding empires) against Egypt, and Phi- 
listia, and Sidon, and the nations of " the sea," 
and the Chaldeans, and the Assyrians. It was 
a people simple in manners, and not distin- 
guished, either in art or science, against nations 
conspicuous in all that could give lustre and 
strength to empire. As well abstract as mecha- 
nical philosophy, and the arts of luxury, and 
great experience in commerce, and much wis- 
dom in government ; together with the glories 
of conquest, contributed to recommend and 
illustrate the seductive idolatries of the mighty 
e e 2 



420 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



countries by which the clans of Judah and 
Ephraim and Benjamin were hemmed in, 

Truly it was no easy task assigned to the 
race of Abraham, to maintain uncorrupt, the 
worship of Jehovah, upon the narrow territory 
chartered to the patriarchs. The precipitous 
heights and the rugged glens of Judea stood 
amid the deserts of the world like a high-fenced 
fortress, held from age to age by a band of men, 
loyal to their Sovereign ; though beleagured by 
innumerable hosts of his foes. And the feeling 
too, that belonged to men so placed alone at 
the post of danger, must have been greatly 
enhanced and kept in agitation by the known 
existence of treachery within the walls. Never 
was there a moment when it might be said, 
that all Israel was true to the trust involved 
in its theocracy. The splendid and licentious 
worship of the neighbouring nations, with the 
dread influence of their superstitions over the 
natural fears of mankind, proved but too power- 
ful a seduction to the Hebrew tribes, even in 
the best times ; and there is reason to believe 
that, during long eras, the adherents of Jehovah 
were but a minority, scorned and oppressed, 
and in jeopardy of life. This state of things is 
plainly gathered as we peruse the Jewish his- 
torians and prophets, from the age of Joshua to 
that of Ezra. 

Nevertheless, though all visible recommen- 
dations were possessed by those gods " of wood, 



THE THIRD HEAVENS. 



421 



and of stone, and of gold," yet the Poet-king 
of Israel, after looking to the south, the north, 
the east, could confidently revert to the heights 
of Zion, and say that the voice of joy and the 
acclamations of genuine and holy pleasure, were 
heard in that w Tabernacle of the righteous," 
and nowhere else. Who that was not utterly 
depraved in heart, would have forsaken the 
modest and reverent solemnities of Jerusalem, 
not uncheered by song and music, for the wail- 
in gs of the Sidonian worship, for the yells of 
the Tyrian, for the cruel service of the god 
whose ardent brazen arms received unpitied 
infants from the hands of ferocious or frenzied 
parents ? or who would choose, instead of the 
service of Jehovah, the fanatic revelries, tumul- 
tuous and obscene, that so often ruffled the 
placid bosom of the Nile, or the monstrous 
pomps of the religion of Babylon, or of Nineveh, 
or of Damascus, where the glories of the sky, 
in which the eternal power and supremacy of 
the true God are manifested, were vilified by 
alliance with the most hideous symbols, and 
where the despotism of the priests was, like a 
venom shed upon the edge of steel, employed 
only to aggravate the despotism of the sword ? 

None could dare to affirm that it was Joy 
that dwelt in the temples of the demon-gods 
of Philistia, Phoenicia, Syria, Assyria, Egypt : 
or who would not have blushed to have said 
that perpetual Pleasures filled the courts of 



422 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



Chemosb, of Ashtaroth, of Dagon, of Baal, of 
Mithra ? What did the grove conceal ? Lust — 
Blood — Imposture. What sounds shook the 
Fane ? alternate screams of anguish, and the 
laughter of mad votaries. What was the 
Priest ? the teacher of every vice of which his 
god was patron and exemplar. What were the 
worshippers ? the victims of every woe which 
Superstition and Sensuality can gender, and 
which Cruelty can cherish. 

It was not then a blind national prejudice, 
any more than it was spiritual arrogancy, that 
made the prophet, poet, and king of Israel exult 
in the distinction of his people. Rather it was a 
righteous scorn which made him exclaim, when 
he thought of the errors of the nations — (S their 
drink-offerings of blood will I not offer, neither 
take their names into my lips." He turned 
toward the hill of God, the habitation of Jeho- 
vah, graced then perhaps with the solemn joys 
of its annual feasts. 66 Thither the tribes had 
gone up," from the glens of the vine and olive, 
from the valleys of corn, of milk, and honey, they 
had advanced "from rest to rest," and every 
one, every head of the thousands of Israel, was 
then " appearing before God in Zion." The 
harp and the viol were heard there, and the 
tabret and the cymbal ; " stringed instruments 
and organs :" the responsive anthem also, which 
taught as much as it cheered the people. And 
in sight of all, the smoke of the propitiatory 



THE THIRD HEAVENS. 



423 



sacrifice ascended direct to heaven — innocent 
sacrifice ! The Priest made intercession for the 
people " within the veil ;" but that veil con- 
cealed no shame, no cruelty, no fraud ; and he 
came forth charged with a blessing, in the 
pregnant terms of which were condensed more 
of Sacred Science than all the rest of the world 
beside possessed. The congregation dispersed, 
and as they returned to their inheritances, the 
" Joy of the Lord was their strength." 

Well then might Askelon and Gaza, Tyre and 
Sidon, Nineveh and Babylon, be challenged to 
do homage to the " city of God," " to walk 
about Zion, to number her towers, to mark 
her bulwarks, to consider her palaces," and to 
confess, that "the Lord that made the heaven 
and the earth was in the midst of her." And 
such universal homage might indeed have been 
at length secured, had the Jewish people pre- 
served their allegiance to Jehovah, and "kept 
his statutes," through a course of ages. " The 
mountain of the house of the Lord should 
have been established on the top of the moun- 
tains, and all nations should have flowed unto 
it." God would have " blessed his people, and 
all the earth should have seen his glory." A 
pure theology, a pure morality, an equable 
polity, a righteous administration of justice, 
needed only to be sustained entire for a length- 
ened period, and the eyes of mankind would 
have been fixed upon such a centre of wisdom 



424 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



and felicity. Sages would have resorted thither 
from all lands, and have carried back, in greater 
or less purity, the elements of piety, virtue, and 
liberty. <( Jerusalem should have been a praise 
in all the earth." We may believe this, as well 
on the ground of natural probability, as on the 
faith of Divine promises. 

If it be true, even on earth, that the spot 
where God is known and worshipped is the 
residence of joy, and the home of pleasure, how 
emphatically true must it be when we come to 
speak of the upper world ! Are there indeed 
regions where the Creator is unknown, or where 
his will is resisted ? amazing — terrible truth ! over 
such regions darkness and horror are spread. 
But are there worlds, or is there a continent 
of light, where His presence is visibly declared, 
and His favour always enjoyed, and His will 
constantly obeyed ? there abides " the fulness 
of joy." ' 

The distinct idea we insist on is this — That 
as Religion has its commencement in the know- 
ledge of what are termed the natural attributes 
of God, which in fact are subservient only to 
higher perfections, and as it receives its next 
considerable enhancement from a knowledge or 
spiritual perception of his attributes of holiness 
and goodness ; so shall it reach its consum- 
mation in an immediate perception, or open 
vision of His unchanging and unsullied Blessed- 



THE THIRD HEAVENS. 



425 



ness. This absolute felicity of God is the 
ultimate point of theology ; and the eras of 
eternity shall be occupied in learning all that it 
comprises. 

An important difference attaches to the mode 
in which these three stages of knowledge are 
attained. The first is acquired chiefly by the 
deductions and inferences of reason ; the second, 
by the testimony of Scripture, along with that 
inward communication, or ' 'teaching of the 
Spirit/' by which the heart is quickened : the 
third must wait for the immediate or real and 
direct knowledge of its object, in the future 
world. It may be added that the first stage of 
this divine knowledge peculiarly belongs to the 
present life. The second, after having had its 
commencement on earth, reaches its highest 
degree (as we presume) in the region of separate 
spirits. The third is reserved for the state of 
perfection, when the ransomed of the Lord — ■ 
ransomed from the grave, and from Hades, shall 
"be presented before the throne of his glory, 
with exceeding joy ;" and shall thenceforward 
and for ever stand in his presence. 

Our meditations may safely advance a step or 
two on this high path ; at least we may pursue 
to some little distance the conception of what it 
must be to have an immediate, sensible, and per- 
petual consciousness of the Blessedness of the 
Infinite Being. And we must first revert to the 



426 SATURDAY EVENING. 

constitution of our own nature, in which nothing 
is more remarkable than the conflict that arises 
from the disposition to entertain ideas which far 
surpass our faculty of embracing or comprehend- 
ing them. The finite and the infinite struggle 
together within us. This conflict, rightly inter- 
preted, must be deemed a true indication of our 
destiny to endless life : and although by men 
much encumbered with the appetites and inte- 
rests of the passing moment, little or nothing of 
the sort may be felt, it is otherwise in minds of 
a superior and more ingenuous order ; and the 
most vigorous and elevated spirits are those that 
feel, with the most intensity, what it is hard to 
express — the struggles of a desire which w 7 ould 
embrace infinite perfections, and yet seems to 
fail the more it succeeds — to be baffled the more 
it actually advances. 

Now it is not very difficult to distinguish the 
specific emotions that attend our contemplations, 
as we ascend the scale of the Divine attributes. 
For example; — independent and eternal exist- 
ence, the omnipresence, the omniscience, the 
omnipotence, and the absolute wisdom of God, 
which are proper objects of the intellectual 
faculty, are entertained not without a feeling in 
part painful, in part pleasurable ; or at least 
pleasurable just so far as associations have been 
formed between such ideas and the devout affec- 
tions. But inasmuch as reason is a subservient 
power, and must look to some definite result as 



THE THIRD HEAVENS. 



427 



the reward of its toil, the endeavour to become 
conversant with infinity must (by the nature of 
the case) always fall short of satisfaction ; must 
want the sense of achievement. The impulse 
to advance is strong ; and so is the discourage- 
ment in proceeding ; and the balance of emotion 
is perhaps painful. We might conclude this to 
be the fact from the circumstance, that the 
devout mind, in an early stage of its effort to 
meditate upon the Natural attributes of Deity, 
turns aside to contemplate the Moral. 

In this region of merely intellectual notions 
we are at once encountered by the disproportion 
of the object, as compared with the faculty 
employed upon it. But in ascending to con- 
template the rectitude, the purity, and the bene- 
volence of the Divine Nature, a real affinity 
between the object and the faculty, that is to 
say the moral sense (spiritually informed) bears 
up the mind, and overcomes the uneasy sensa- 
tions just before mentioned. In its emotions of 
love, complacency, and affectionate adoration, 
the soul ceases to dwell upon the idea of infinite 
and incomprehensible perfections ; and seems 
to be blending its own nature with the divine, 
rather than to be contrasting (as in the former 
case) the one with the other. And here it 
should distinctly be noted that, as it is the 
affections, more than the reasoning faculty, that 
are in activity, and as the affections are ultimate 
powers in the human mind, and do not look on 



428 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



to any result beyond themselves, they are not 
liable, like reason, to a painful revulsion, from 
the sense of not having reached the utmost limit 
possible. The soul reposes, and is satisfied, so 
far as it goes, on the path of love ; but never is 
so satisfied, can never so repose, on the path of 
reason, until the goal be attained. 

Pleasure, chastened by awe, attends this 
perception of the " beauties of Holiness." The 
mind agreeably alternates between its rational 
and moral notions ; reverting to the former 
only that it may again, and with new force, 
admit the latter. The Eternal, the Omnipotent, 
the Only Wise, is thought of for a moment in 
His incomprehensible perfections, in order that 
an augmentation may be gained of the senti- 
ments wherewith His benignity and purity are 
contemplated. 

These emotions, as we have already surmised, 
reach their acme in the separate state, which is 
specifically assigned to them, and where all other 
powers and desires are suspended. In that 
state (as we conjecture) the Divine Presence 
still remains veiled, and the Divine favour con- 
tinues to be dispensed through the medium of 
the Mediator, whose office endures until the 
work of redemption is completed. May it then 
be thought that, when this intervention comes 
to an end, and admittance is allowed to the 
open presence of the King eternal, that what 



THE THIRD HEAVENS. 



429 



is ultimate in the Divine Nature, namely— its 
unchangeable and absolute felicity, shall become 
the prime object of the perceptions of all wor- 
shippers, and the one source or reason of all 
enjoyment ? And then, both the natural and the 
moral perfections of God shall be, in relation to 
his absolute Blessedness, what, at present, the 
natural are to the moral ; that is to say, they 
shall serve as the grounds of a higher sense 
of that Blessedness. In the manifested presence 
of the Sovereign Happiness it can no more be 
conceived of as possible, that created and de- 
pendent spirits should make to themselves, or 
find room to admit, any happiness which does 
not emanate from that of the Supreme Being, 
than it is possible, in the face of the summer's 
sun, to kindle a blaze which can repel or surpass 
that of noon. The very structure of the mind 
implies that the greatest and most vivid cause of 
excitement should prevail over the lesser. 

And although a natural prejudice (easily un- 
derstood) may reject such an idea, those who 
will attentively follow up the rudiments of our 
religious knowledge, whether abstract or docu- 
mentary, and will calmly compare such notions 
with the necessary conditions of a finite being, 
must discern a glimmering at least of the great 
truth — That the Supreme Being, self-existent, 
and altogether sufficient in Himself, possesses 
a felicity that is immensely remote from any 
relation of mutuality with that of his creatures, 



430 SATURDAY EVENING. 

even the most exalted of them. And thence it 
will follow, not very indistinctly, that there will 
be presented to the observation of intelligent 
beings, more or less openly, certain movements 
or evolutions (language is utterly at fault) which 
have their issue only in that sovereign, inde- 
pendent felicity, and in which movements the 
creature has no part, and can be no fellow. It 
is hard to conceive of the Infinite Excellence 
at all, otherwise than as comprising interactive 
causes which must have products possessing 
absolutely no affinity with any thing exterior to 
itself, and which can be but imperfectly surmised 
or discerned by any created intelligence. Nay, 
it ought to be assumed that the shoreless ocean 
of the Divine Felicity contains elements, and 
combinations of those elements, which utterly 
surpass all finite knowledge. And then the fact 
of such unsearchable depths being admitted, as 
a necessary deduction of reason, there will be 
open to created minds the peculiar emotion 
naturally springing up when, with the boundless 
radiance of Infinite Blessedness full in view, it 
is recollected that a vast unknown remains 
beyond and within that visible glory ! " Who by 
searching can find out God ; who can find out 
the Almighty to perfection ? " 

In these principles there is comprehended a 
provision, never to be exhausted, for supplying 
new enjoyments to pure and intelligent beings. 
It is evident that, to active natures, endowed 



THE THIRD HEAVENS. 



431 



with the power and desire of advancement, the 
eras of protracted duration must impart con- 
tinually fresh accessions of capacity for discern- 
ing the perfections of the Infinite God. That 
which might not at all be known or even con- 
ceived of in an early stage, may be compre- 
hended in a stage more advanced ; and thus the 
Boundless Felicity, which none shall ever fathom, 
will be to all, and for ever, a spring of perpetual 
pleasures. 

Themes of this order, which here have been 
but hastily and rudely touched upon, may pro- 
perly employ the meditative faculty, without 
soon being exhausted. And it is much to be 
observed that, while the mind rests upon them, 
and rests upon them too until all emotions and 
faculties have duly fallen into the general move- 
ment, so as to contribute their aid ; and espe- 
cially while the Divine Spirit is cherishing the 
flame of pious hope, more may be attained or 
conceived of than language is fitted to convey. 
On this ground it is not true that a man may 
express whatever is really present to his mind ; 
for the medium of communication w r as framed 
for no purpose so high, and it absolutely wants, 
as well the single terms, as the forms of con- 
nexion, necessary to effect it. It is a poor 
thing to advance, in our religious contempla- 
tions, only as far as to the boundary of that 
circle over which human language spreads itself. 



432 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



And how poor a thing not even to extend the 
empire of the mind so far as to that boundary ; 
but to be continually repeating wonted phrases, 
of which the indolent spirit has never yet taken 
intelligent possession ! 

It is also to be noted that the just reprehen- 
sion, or even contempt, which may be bestowed 
upon an idle endeavour to penetrate by imagi- 
nation the invisible worlds, and to describe, in 
oriental style, the things which " eye hath not 
seen, nor the heart of man conceived," is not at 
all due to the proper effort of the mind when, by 
revolving the rudiments of its own nature, and 
by pursuing the indications of its highest affec- 
tions, and by collating these with the evidence 
of Scripture, it labours to anticipate, in idea, its 
approaching destiny. If any are found blaming 
a labour of this sort, it will be, the inert, the 
frivolous, or the sensual. 

Truly we are not thinking to depict the scenes 
and personages of the celestial world : we are 
not assigning names, fortunes, qualities, adven- 
tures, to seraphim and cherubim ; we are not 
bringing together the bright colours, and per- 
fect forms, and the odours, and gaiety, of the 
heavenly plains ; or speaking of groves, gardens, 
fountains, flowers, fruits, melodies, temples, 
palaces, triumphs. All this we leave. How 
unlike to any such pictures may probably be 
the actual scene, where the nations of heaven, 
immortal, ancient, wise, experienced, fraught 



THE THIRD HEAVENS. 



433 



with energy, courage, sacred ambition, loyalty 
to God, and good-will to all creatures, are per- 
forming their parts, or hastening on in their 
endless courses. 

It is quite another thing, with modesty, and 
with painful efforts, and in devout hope of hea- 
venly guidance, to work problems by the aid of 
those materials of cogitation which reason and 
nature and Revelation afford. 



XXVI. 
THE PRECURSOR. 

" THOU WILT SHEW ME THE PATH OF LIFE." 



Divinely guided, and yet very dimly, or per- 
haps not at all discerning the purport of his 
prophetic ode, the royal poet uttered, as in the 
person of " him who was to come," the confi- 
dence and hope of Messiah, in prospect of the 
arduous course he was to pass through. His 
God was to " shew him the path of life that 
is to say, was to conduct him, as Leader of 
Salvation, over all the road, and through all 
the stages of human existence ; even from the 
virgin's womb, to the right hand of power in 
the heavens. Mortal life with its humiliations, 
pains, and fears, and death, with its anguish and 
dismay; and Hades too, were included in the 
route. But Hades could not detain him who 
was to " lead its captivity captive," and ere " his 
flesh should see corruption," he was to burst the 
bars of the prison, and return to the light of day; 
and thence ascending, enter upon the fulness 
of joy. 

The Mediator is the Precursor of his people 
on this " path of life," and an experienced Guide 



THE PRECURSOR. 



435 



also, in its dangers. In all things " he has the 
precedency/' and advances in front of the host 
he is leading to the skies. By the right of 
conquest, and by the right of experience, He 
exercises " domination over the dead and the 
living." There is no hazard of error in thus 
assigning its specific sense to the prophetic words 
of David ; for the chief of the apostles, under the 
fresh influence of the Divine Spirit, applies and 
expounds them as fulfilled in none but Jesus, 
the Christ. 

Leaving other implied principles unnoticed, 
we may, for a moment, meditate upon the re- 
lation of this precursive part of the Mediator's 
work to the immortality and celestial felicity of 
his followers. 

We have spoken of the perpetual pleasures 
that surround the throne of God. But what 
has man to do with themes so high, and so little 
in harmony with his actual condition ? Look at 
him in the guise he wears ! Does he seem like 
an aspirant to immortality and glory ? Is such a 
one as he indeed on the way to the royal abode 
of universal dominion ? Is not his eye anxiously 
fixed upon the low path he is treading ? is not 
his brow knit with care, and soiled with degra- 
ding labour ? is he not in heart ignoble ? is he 
not emaciate ? are not his garments worn, his 
feet lacerated, his provision corrupted ? Yes, and 
has not his very spirit bowed to the humiliations 



436 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



of his lot ; so that he even consents to the scorn 
that belongs to it ? All this is true, and more 
might be said ; nevertheless man must not sur- 
render his pretension to the heavens. He has a 
special reason for his hope, a reason stronger 
than all contradictions. 

That hope of immortality which the Christian 
entertains is neither a mere inference of reason, 
nor a bare verbal promise, sent from heaven to 
earth, that might be interpreted in various ex- 
tents of meaning. But it is a deduction from an 
actual experiment, all the parts of which have 
been set out before us ; and in examining them 
we attain the confidence and the familiarity 
which distinguish real knowledge from theory 
or imagination. If a future life simply had been 
announced, many analogies of the physical world, 
as well as our own consciousness of infirmity 
and degradation, might have led us to imagine 
that our next stage of existence was to raise 
human nature a degree or two on the scale 
of power and of well-being, and was at length 
to be succeeded by another small accession to 
its faculties of enjoyment, or to its virtue ; and 
so on through an extended period. The in- 
fluence of any such supposition must have been 
to remove to a faint distance those bright ob- 
jects, and that divine glory, which the Christian 
scheme brings into the nearest apposition to our 
hearts. 

If we were to speak in this connexion of the 



THE PRECURSOR. 



437 



physiology of human existence, or of what might 
be called the natural history of the race, then we 
find it exhibited, or modelled, in the narrative 
of redemption. It was not by making a visit in 
royal state to the scene of ruin, that the Saviour 
of the world rescued men ; but by himself going 
through the several stages of their destined 
course ; and while we contemplate his progress, 
we see, and have it ostensibly proved to us, that 
things far greater and higher than reason could 
at all have supposed, are actually brought within 
the range of hope, nay, are " standing at the 
very door." There is but " a step between man 
and death ;" rather, there is but a step between 
him and the very highest promotion. One who 
was " made like unto ourselves in all points," 
has in our view trodden the ground of earth, and 
has passed thence immediately, and not through 
an immeasurable circuit, or by countless pro- 
gressions, " into the heavens." From this our 
low abode, He, having loosed the bonds of death, 
and broken the bars of the grave, burst at once 
into the presence-chamber of the Majesty on 
high ; nor did he fear there to present himself in 
the form of humanity. 

The assumption of the human by the Divine 
Nature, to say nothing now of its primary 
consequences, supersedes a multitude of ques- 
tions and speculations that might have been 
entertained relative to the station which man 
may natively be fitted to occupy. And it should 



438 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



not escape notice that human salvation is, with 
great uniformity of terms, spoken of by the 
inspired writers as, a restoration, a recovery; 
it is the bringing him back to the dignity 
he had lost. No expressions are employed 
which might seem to indicate that an altera- 
tion, or extension of the original plan of the 
human system had been admitted ; or as if an 
arbitrary derangement of the ranks and orders 
of the intelligent system had been made, in 
consequence of which the family of Adam are 
to be promoted over the heads of others to a 
place higher than their qualities should fairly 
warrant. 

Philosophical theories of human nature are 
in fault, on the side both of presumption and 
of frigid diffidence. Far too much is assumed 
in behalf of man in what belongs to his actual 
condition, and his unassisted powers ; and far 
too little in what relates to his original desti- 
nation, to the importance of his present beha- 
viour, and to his future lot. But the Scriptures, 
in their history of man, set out from a point 
more elevated, follow him through a course 
that descends to the lowest depths; and again 
present him as emerging, and as setting out 
on an upward path that leads to an immea- 
surable height. And the special circumstance 
of this history is, that the several stages of 
it are all displayed in the narrative of Re- 
demption. Is it asked, on any side, What 



THE PRECURSOR. 



439 



do we mean — what do we pretend to, when we 
speak, at large, of glory, honour, immortality, 
or of a crown of life, or of being constituted 
kings and priests unto God; or of sitting on 
thrones to exercise powers of judgment, even 
over superior natures ? We reply at once, 
that we pretend to whatever is involved in 
the union of the members with the Head- 
that Head being divine ; and we expect what- 
ever may fairly be presumed when it is said, 
of all believers, that they shall be "like Him," 
and near Him (as his kinsmen) who is the 
" brightness of the Father's glory, and the 
express image of his person." 

The Representative of mankind, and their 
Deliverer, in anticipation of the part assigned 
him, appeals to the Father, and says, " Thou 
wilt shew me the path of life." And when 
afterwards he stood in the midst of that path, 
or nearly at the point of its lowest depression, 
he still kept in view his character of Leader 
of his people, and looking to heaven exclaimed 
(is it prayer, or is it omnipotent volition ?) 
" Father, I will that those whom thou hast 
given me should be with me, to behold my 
glory, and that where I am, they should be 
also." At the same time, as if to assure the 
courage of his followers in the moment of fear, 
he says — (( Whither I go ye know, and the 
way ye know." And now that he is ascended 
on high, the invitation he sends forth to all 



440 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



who seek immortality is — " Follow me !" Jesus, 
Head of the Church, is " gone to appear in 
the presence of God for us," not merely as 
Mediator, or High Priest, but as Precursor : and 
because he has actually attained that summit 
of glory and felicity, his people shall reach it 
also. 

Thus we have the reason of our hope of future 
advancement set out in a living form, in the 
course or track of our Representative, from 
earth to heaven. And yet there remains an 
accommodation of the same expression, open 
to every believer. For after the primary inten- 
tion of the prophetic words of David has been 
secured, we may assume them, not improperly, 
on behalf of the Christian, who, with solicitude 
or doubt, looks forward to the concealed path 
he has yet to tread, and addressing the " Shep- 
herd and Bishop of souls," exclaims — " Thou 
wilt shew me the path of life!" 

The capital purposes of the present scene of 
things demand that, even the Christian, should 
be left to touch the very verge of another 
state in ignorance of what it is that awaits 
him ; that is to say, of its circumstances, mode 
of existence, transactions, society. He is as- 
sured of the fact of continued consciousness ; 
and the spiritual rudiments of that after-state 
are also made known to him ; but nothing 
more. This ignorance, which to the irreligious 



THE PRECURSOR. 



441 



is the occasion of a desperate and stupid insen- 
sibility, in treading upon the brink of the invisible 
world, gives rise, in the heart of the Christian, 
to a trembling awe, and a dread expectation. 
His firm and matured belief of immortality quite 
forbids that he should, as others do, throw him- 
self reckless from the shore of life. But the same 
faith, though it saves him from dismay, can never 
(or only in very rare instances) entirely exclude 
the trepidation so natural to the human mind 
on all signal occasions ; and most of all when 
nothing less than the dissolution of the fabric of 
life is each successive moment expected. 

Now this blank ignorance of the world into 
which he is so suddenly, and so soon to enter, 
is plainly intended to throw the Christian inge- 
nuously upon those very emotions which the 
unseen world is to call into exclusive activity. 
What can the dying believer do, uninformed as 
he is of the way he is to tread, his foot ad- 
vanced, though the ground on which it is next 
to rest is unseen, what but recur to the rudi- 
ments of his hope ? what but look to the Pre- 
cursor, who is also the Lord of that unseen 
world ? How different might be his sentiments 
if, in approaching the gate of death, or in first 
entering its shadows, a prospect were allowed 
to the mortal eye of the crowded and magnific 
scene which lies immediately beyond that gate ! 
The frailty of the mind, shall we say that in- 
fantile misdirection of its curiosity, which belongs 



442 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



to its period of nonage, would lead it to prefer 
the less to the greater — the form to the sub- 
stance. In a word, the principal and the essen- 
tial emotion so signally proper to the great crisis 
of sense and faith, would give way to secondary 
feelings, which shall find other and more fit 
occasions for their exercise, and space enough 
in the long leisure of eternity. 

Provision is made in the Scriptures for meeting 
the peculiar sentiment which the Christian's con- 
joined faith in the unseen world, and ignorance 
of its conditions, engender. And, as matter of 
fact, the dying expressions of multitudes of the 
faithful, in every age, have exemplified the 
fitness of this provision to the occasion. If a 
solemn renewal of repentance is proper to the 
hour of death, and if an explicit and fervent chal- 
lenge of the Divine mercy is proper to it, these 
acts are not enough to impart confidence and 
joy, or always even a settled tranquillity. The 
palpitating heart must appropriate the personal 
affection of the Redeemer to his people. This 
appropriation is the secret of dying. The 
human mind, when once thoroughly occupied 
by a benign affection, specially fixed upon its 
object, can meet any danger, or can brave any 
dismay. History abounds with illustrations of 
this fact, for it is a capital law of our nature. 
Men, nay women, thus animated, have forgotten 
fear, and carried themselves through fields of 
death as calmly as if they had had none but an 



THE PRECURSOR. 



443 



ethereal frame. If we analyse our emotions on 
any occasions of this sort, we shall find that if, 
at any time, a steady courage has borne us with 
force, and animation, and cheerfulness, through 
hours of imminent peril, it has been when we 
have had to act on behalf of those most dear 
to us ; or when the welfare of such has depended 
altogether upon our conduct. Even the martial 
courage of the field (if it be more than animal 
bravery) is constituted on the same principle, 
and would be nothing if stripped of its affec- 
tions. 

Those who would blame as enthusiastic or 
presumptuous the fervours and speciality of 
devout affection, such as eminent Christians 
have expressed in their dying moments, know 
nothing of Christianity beyond the bare story 
they read in the Gospels, and nothing of human 
nature (or of human nature as affected by reli- 
gion) beyond what belongs to the servile senti- 
ments of a pelagian faith (better called distrust). 
If multitudes of those who receive Christian 
burial, because they have received Christian 
baptism, die joyless, and disappear from the 
upper air as if sinking in a stagnant pool, it 
is not the fault of Christianity. Christianity 
meets us where we most of all need its aid ; and 
meets us too with the very aid we need. It 
does not tell us of the splendours of the invisible 
world ; but it does far better when, in three 
words, it informs us that {avakvaai) to loosen 



444 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



from the shore of mortality, is (avv X^to-rw eivat) 
to be with Christ. 

This is precisely the assurance which the 
occasion demands ; for it not only quickens the 
devout affections, but it fixes them on their 
object. Whoever has truly admitted the emo- 
tions peculiar to Christian faith, desires nothing 
more than is conveyed in this pregnant phrase. 
All security, and all joy, are comprised in the 
idea of beholding and of approaching the Son 
of God, the Son of Man, now exercising uni- 
versal dominion, and especially ruling the world 
of spirits. " If I go, I will come again to re- 
ceive you to myself." This, and some parallel 
expressions, although they have a primary refer- 
ence to a future signal event, may, on no very 
slender grounds, be interpreted as conveying a 
promise to individuals, as if the " Shepherd of 
the sheep" were wont in person to meet the 
new-coming spirit at its entrance upon the realm 
of peace. Be it so or not, it is clear that the 
faithful are authorized to entertain the well- 
defined hope — the hope of the heart, if the 
heart be indeed renewed, of coming, at death, 
into the sensible presence of the Saviour. What 
is the reluctance of nature, if the Christian, in 
closing his eyes upon the world, can fix them 
on the Divine Deliverer, and say — " Thou wilt 
shew me the path of Life ?" 



XXVIL 



ENDLESS LIFE. 



NEITHER CAN THEY DIE ANY MORE. 



Certain objects of meditation, although in- 
trinsically inferior to others, fully make up their 
original deficiency by the relation they stand in 
to our personal welfare. The fate of an empire 
must not be put in the scale with the life or 
fortune of an individual ; nevertheless when that 
individual is watching public revolutions which 
must, in their results, decide his particular des- 
tiny, he may find it difficult to maintain in his 
feelings a due proportion between the less and 
the greater object. All other notions or objects 
of thought sink into insignificance, or quite dis- 
appear, by the side of those two paramount 
ideas — the Existence of God, and the proper 
Immortality of human nature. And although 
the latter can bear no comparison, abstractedly, 
with the first, its ineffable importance to our- 
selves places the two on a sort of equality in 
our minds. 



446 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



If the first of these truths challenges to itself 
all perfections, and infinity, as the crown of all ; 
the second, how limited soever may be the ele- 
ments to which it relates, also claims infinity ; 
and thus gains an importance not to be mea- 
sured. And in fact it is this second truth — 
the immortality of man, which imparts its fearful 
moment to the first. If the present life were 
the whole of our destined period, we might 
assign the principles of theology to a place 
among curious questions. But when it is told 
us that the consciousness we inherit is strictly 
indestructible, that no mutations in the mode 
of existence, no accidents, no alterations in the 
laws of nature; not even the upturning of the 
material universe, not the extinction of all 
things visible, can bring about the annihilation 
of man, then indeed it becomes a question of 
unutterable consequence — What is God? for 
we — even we, are to be the companions of his 
eternal duration ! 

The creatures of a day, of a summer, of a 
century, might be imagined, when they stand 
upon the threshold of their destined term of 
existence, to make inquiry concerning the attri- 
butes and dispositions of the Creator, and the 
rules of his government ; for these are to give 
law to their season of life, and to be the measure 
of their enjoyments. But with what intenseness 
of anxiety might the Sons of Immortality put 
such questions, as they come severally to set 



ENDLESS LIFE. 



447 



foot upon a course that shall have no end, and 
that must always be gathering to itself import- 
ance ! If mankind were fully awake to futurity, 
and discerned the present stage of life to be, as 
it is, an infancy for eternity, a tentative only in 
existence, all would rush upon the great field of 
divine Science, that by every means they might 
truly know Him, who is Sovereign Disposer of 
their destiny. Apart from the doctrine of im- 
mortality, the doctrine of the Divine attributes 
might be tranquilly dealt with, as we deal with 
any abstruse matters, or with mathematical prin- 
ciples : they are indeed of some moment, but 
their importance is bounded by the brief period 
of our connexion with the material world. How 
much otherwise is it when every attribute — ■ 
natural and moral, of the Infinite Being, shall 
for ever concentrate its rays, as in a focus, upon 
the immortal created spirit, so that this spirit 
shall draw to itself, in some manner, and without 
end, a special consequence from the omnipo- 
tence, and the omniscience, from the rectitude, 
and the benignity of God ! 

These great truths are too closely allied not 
to share the same fate in the world. If the one 
be obscured, the other is forgotten, or the one 
perverted, the other is vilified. Whoever knows 
not God, knows not himself — and the reverse. 
Or if theology be frigidly treated as a sterile, 
difficult, or vapid matter, the future life is also a 
listless theme ; and we shall see the incredible 



448 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



inconsistency of a confession that man is actually 
set out upon an endless pilgrimage, along with 
an easy contempt of all solicitude concerning the 
direction it is to take ! But when once the 
soul awakes, as from a dream, to the rational 
consciousness of either truth, with what force 
and majesty does the other present itself to the 
mind ! The belief of immortality brings God 
before the soul, as if visibly manifested ; and the 
knowledge of God kindles the conception of 
endless life. 

If we would still more distinctly discern the 
connexion of these prime principles, let us for 
a moment attempt to sever them. In the first 
place (if indeed we dare entertain such a con- 
ception) we may think of finding ourselves mem- 
bers of an innumerable community of beings on 
a parity in powers and dispositions, not more 
good, or more wise, and yet all immortal, but 
atheistic ; God having withdrawn himself far, 
and for ever, from the circle of creation ; or that 
there were no intelligent Supreme — no Omni- 
potence, no Ruler, no law, no order! but that 
passions and private interests, pride, fear, de- 
sire, took their courses, in single lines, rushing 
one upon the other in confusion, perpetually 
more confused. Who must not court annihila- 
tion, rather than launch upon any such shore- 
less ocean of immortality — without God ? 

Or let the converse be thought of, and it be 
supposed that a rational spirit, after becoming in 



ENDLESS LIFE. 



449 



the highest degree conscious of its own powers 
of enjoyment and progression, and after gaining 
a sight of the glory of the Most High, and of 
the felicities of eternal life, after just tasting the 
fruits of heaven, and drinking of the cup of 
immortality, should find itself fast floating on 
to the brink of extinction ; and while the eye 
might yet gaze upon the bright and unbounded 
field of endless bliss — bliss it could so well 
relish, yes, and with the attributes of God, the 
source of good, all before it, should look down 
and see the abyss of death — death absolute, 
whereinto a wave or two more must hurl it! 
Better not know at all the Divine Perfections, 
than see and know them, as we are about to 
fall from our place in creation ! So true is it 
that, if immortal, we must seek for God ; and if 
God be at hand, we must covet immortality. 
It is even just conceivable that the most gross, 
sensual, or malignant minds, which now, while 
the present life bounds their prospect, "desire 
not the knowledge of the Almighty," and say to 
Him, ec depart from us," may, on their entrance 
upon that state whence they shall look on 
through an interminable life, ask for Him as 
Ruler and Arbitrator, although conscious of their 
rebellion against his government. As if it were 
less tolerable to exist for ever where God is not, 
than to exist where he is an adversary. 

It has been affirmed, and perhaps with reason, 

G G 



450 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



that the mere power which the human mind 
possesses of conceiving abstractedly of a First 
Cause, intelligent and benignant, is proper proof, 
and real demonstration of the fact. An argu- 
ment of this sort comes not within the design 
of these pages. But it may be said that, if 
such an argument be valid, it implies the good- 
ness of another, frequently urged — That the 
expectation of a future life, and the strong 
impression of mankind on this subject, is equi- 
valent to a natural proof of what is so uni- 
versally looked for. If man be thought of only 
physiologically, it seems a monstrous supposi- 
tion, that he should be endued with an instinct 
absolutely nugatory, or destitute of object, 
intention, and utility. This common belief of 
a future life, if indeed there be no such state, 
is much the same as if the shoulders of the 
human race sprouted with wings, though men 
had no power of raising themselves into the 
air. 

But whatever may be the force of such 
arguments, our faith in immortality actually 
takes its stand on divine testimony, rather 
than on abstruse reasons. In truth we have 
great need of this testimony to put an end to 
certain doubts which reason could never solve. 
There are lines of argument which, although 
they might seem fairly to establish the doctrine 
of a life after the dissolution of the body, would 
not necessarily include the notion — amazing 



ENDLESS LIFE. 



451 



idea! of Endless Existence. It is one thing 
to awake at death to a new life ; and another 
to inherit absolutely a never-ending life. The 
many physical analogies which indicate the law 
of a renewal of functions, in other forms, after 
long periods of torpor or decay, would not 
unavoidably imply more than that man, the 
noblest of animals, should reappear also on the 
stage of action, and pass through a century or 
more of transformations. The same may be 
said of the common expectation of mankind, 
and of the argument usually drawn (and very 
conclusively) from the notion of good govern- 
ment, which requires another state, wherein may 
be vindicated the great axioms of justice and 
virtue, so much obscured as they are by the 
events of the present state. Less than eternity 
might suffice for restoring order to the moral 
system, according to any human ideas of what 
justice demands. All these notions or conclu- 
sions, although they put contempt upon the 
gross error of the atheist, will scarcely be 
deemed demonstrative, though corroborative, of 
the capital truth before us — the assignment of 
endless duration to created minds. 

It may indeed be alleged, and perhaps justly, 
that the same reasons which now demand an 
after-life, will go forward with undiminished 
force to another, and then again to another 
epoch of existence ; so as in fact to establish 
the claim of man to absolute immortality. It 

gg2 



452 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



may be so ; and yet the vastness of such a 
belief, if we conceive of what the terms convey, 
must throw us back upon the clearest and most 
irrefragable proof. What is it we are speaking 
of? Infinity! and infinity attached to a finite 
being! Does it not seem as if for a creature 
to challenge to itself, in any sense, a boundless 
attribute, were to trench upon the prerogative of 
the Divine Nature ? Or if Revelation had not 
set this matter on another footing (as we shall 
see) might it not seem a surrender of the first 
principles of theology to admit, that beings, 
derived, dependent, limited, might participate 
with the uncreated and unlimited nature in the 
attribute of perpetual existence ? Can it be true 
that men, or any other creatures, shall go on in 
company with the Self-existent Being, through 
such tracts of duration as shall almost bring 
oblivion upon the point of commencement, and 
generate a consciousness as if He and they were 
alike eternal ? We talk lightly of immortality ; 
but it is because the greatness of the idea 
prevents our considering what it is we affirm. 
More thoughtfulness would impel us to look 
more narrowly to the grounds of our belief. 

But has it not been demonstrated that mind, 
because it is a simple and indestructible sub- 
stance, must live for ever ? Whoever accepts 
this demonstration is free to do so ; and even 
those who decline to receive it as absolutely 



ENDLESS LIFE. 



453 



conclusive, will gladly listen to it after they have, 
by another process, convinced themselves that 
indeed the human mind is destined to perpetuity. 
Meanwhile both parties should gratefully turn to 
the inspired writings, to derive thence the best 
sort of evidence the doctrine can admit. And 
this evidence will be found to possess a force, by 
implication of principles, which far surpasses any 
imaginable value that ought to be attached to the 
etymological import of single words. 

No etymon comprises what we are speaking 
of, or has power to convey so much more than 
language was formed to express, or than the 
notions of mankind at large have ever compre- 
hended. This truth, as it is beyond conception, 
is far beyond words, and must be drawn by 
inference from the unquestionable principles of 
religion. Those who would succinctly say, that 
such or such syllables contain the affirmation 
of infinite existence, have probably never fixed 
their minds, with any intentness, upon that of 
which they speak, have never asked them- 
selves — how much less than to be divine, is 
it to be immortal ? Let such persons toil 
awhile upon the conception, which so easily 
they talk of. To facilitate this effort let them 
exchange the idea of duration for that of ex- 
tension ; or rather attempt to attach the former, 
of which we know very little, to the latter, of 
which we know much more. Let it be imagined 



454 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



then, that the task assigned to man were to set 
out, at his ordinary rate of movement, on a 
circuit of the visible creation. Are we already 
somewhere in the centre of that space ? then 
must the traveller first make his way, step by 
step, from this central starting-point to the 
utmost bounds of the inhabited heavens ; he 
must go on till he has left behind him the 
brighter of the stars, and those too that are 
immensely more remote than the brighter. 
But let us cut short the preliminary journey, 
and fancy him standing (with his task still un- 
attempted) at the extreme orbit of the material 
system. He has to measure its circumference : 
the human foot has to tread the zodiac of the 
universe ! has it at length accomplished the 
round of all worlds ; has the course of the tra- 
veller girt the skies ? then send him forth anew 
to do the same ; and when he has repeated his 
task as often as there have been single steps in 
his way, he will still be young in immortality. 
To live for ever, is a far more stupendous matter 
than to make the circuit of creation a myriad of 
times. 

It is fearful, if we reflect upon what it im- 
plies, to bear relation, in any sort of way, even 
remotely, to infinitude ; for who shall calculate 
what may be the whole result of such a con- 
nexion ? How fearful then to carry infinity in 
our very bosoms ! to be wedded inseparably to 
that which has no bounds ! We may calmly 



ENDLESS LIFE. 



455 



survey all other properties of human nature, 
and may admire the skill with which its several 
functions are combined. But shall we dare 
steadily to fix the eye upon that yet undeveloped 
property which lurks beneath the fine machinery 
of life ? Shall we gaze upon this faculty of end- 
less existence — a faculty that is now but just 
waking itself from the torpor of its birth, and 
that will go on expanding its vigour, and spring- 
ing up yet young and hale, after it has outlived 
the stars ? In comparison with this power of 
eternal life, all powers are nothing ; or should 
we not rather say, that every faculty which is 
linked to this, borrows from it an incalculable 
importance ? 

The unfixed practice of our English trans- 
lators in rendering the Scripture terms of dura- 
tion, has thrown a disadvantage upon certain 
very momentous questions, and has made some 
affirmations of the inspired writers seem vague, 
which probably were to themselves, and to their 
first readers, quite definite ; or at least more 
so than they are to our ears. The confusion 
hence arising has led certain controvertists to 
found an argument upon the supposed force of 
a single term (aidvios) to which Scripture usage 
has given a very great latitude of meaning, 
and which therefore must, in every place, re- 
ceive its specific value from the subject in hand. 
Most fully may it be granted that, in the apostolic 



456 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



axiom, " the gift of God is eternal life," (as well 
as in very many other places) there is included 
the doctrine of infinite, or never-ending exist- 
ence. Our persuasion of this fact must not 
however be made to hinge on the native force 
of the adjective there employed, but rather upon 
the evident intention of the writer, as illustrated 
and confirmed by other means. 

If the direct calculations by which the dis- 
tances of the heavenly bodies is fixed were 
called in question, recourse would be had to 
some more circuitous process of proof — the pa- 
rallax — the times of revolution — the ascertained 
irregularity, and disturbance of forces ; and when 
every line of proof was found to accord with 
the fact, as at first affirmed, the primary calcu- 
lation would be deemed incontestable. It is 
thus that the obvious or apparent sense of the 
phrase — eternal life, is attested, and may be 
settled by several concurrent arguments. A 
brief allusion to these is all that can comport 
with our present purpose. 

In the first place then, generally, the Scrip- 
tures assign to man an original dignity, much 
greater than mere philosophy supposes, or than 
is implied in the grovelling sentiments which the 
sensuality and the degradation of the human 
mind itself engender. The inspired writers, 
while they deal faithfully with man in regard to 
his actual corruption, magnify, without scruple, 



ENDLESS LIFE. 



457 



his character as related to God, and to futurity. 
The style of the Bible, in this point, prepares 
us to receive whatever it may have to affirm 
concerning human destinies. And leave is given 
at once to entertain the greatest conceptions, 
when, in the first page of the sacred Canon, it is 
said, and said with emphasis, that " God created 
man in His own image ; in the image of God 
created he man." This first principle of religion 
forbids or forestalls, in brief, every objection 
against what may follow. And that this dignity, 
whatever it might include, was not forfeited by 
the transgression of Adam, is made certain when 
the same principle is anew affirmed, as an ab- 
stract or universal truth — " Man is the image 
of God ;" or less universally, that, by the Gospel, 
all who believe are " made partakers of the 
Divine Nature." 

But it is the mystery of Redemption that 
carries our point, and gives even a facility to 
our conception of a truth so astounding, as that 
man is to live for ever, by placing it in a sub- 
ordinate position to the still more amazing 
truth of the union of the Divine and human 
natures, in the person of the Mediator. The 
latter includes the former as the greater in- 
cludes the less, and implies it also, so that 
even if the promise of eternal life had not 
been conveyed in terms free from ambiguity, 
they must have received this absolute sense 
from the superior principle to which they are 



458 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



related. We stand here on ground far more 
substantial than that of etymology, or verbal 
criticism : we are conversant with substances, 
not symbols. 

Our Lord, in his private conversations with his 
disciples, avails himself of the stores of tropical 
expression for the purpose of firmly fixing in 
their minds the belief of an intimate and indis- 
soluble union between themselves and him. 
And the copiousness and variety of these eiso- 
teric discourses are manifestly intended to ob- 
viate doubts, from whatever quarter arising. 
There is a progression from the figurative to the 
abstract style, a progression natural when the 
speaker is solicitous to provide against all objec- 
tions. Christ is "the Shepherd, who so loves 
his flock as to lay down his life for their sakes." 
He is " the vine," and the source of life to the 
branches. But this is not enough ; and in the 
most solemn forms of which language is sus- 
ceptible, and in a direct address to the Father, 
he carries to the highest point, the idea of 
the close and inseparable junction of the Divine 
and human natures, of which junction himself 
is the medium : — " That they all may be one, 
as thou, Father, art in me, and I in Thee; 
that they also may be one in us." If any thing 
of explicitness be here wanting, it is only be- 
cause the powers of language must somewhere 
find a limit. 

The Author of immortality, resplendent in 



ENDLESS LIFE. 



459 



his titles as i( Prince of life," " the Living 
One/' He who "has life in himself," who is 
abstractedly, " the Life, and the Light of men/' 
and is " alive for evermore/ 5 and " the same 
yesterday, to-day, and for ever," the Possessor 
of all duration, " whose goings forth have been 
from everlasting, and whose name is Father of 
eternity ;" He who thus draws to himself all 
honours, as Fountain of existence, sums up 
every other assurance, when he tells his fol- 
lowers that, " BECAUSE HE LIVES, THEY SHALL 

live also/' as if formally to pledge his own 
immortality for theirs ; or as if they might fear 
extinction, when He, the Lord of life, should be 
no more. 

But if yet there were room for a form of 
affirmation which might seem to comprise all 
others, and to grasp the very idea of endless 
existence, and quite to exclude ambiguity, we 
find it in our Lord's declaration concerning 
those who should be deemed worthy to obtain 
part in the future life/* " They cannot die any 
more ; being on a par with the angels." The 
terms carry the idea of an abstract, or of a 
physical impossibility of undergoing dissolution 
or extinction : — such are to be made heirs of 
indestructible existence.f 

* Ovte yap a-iroQavelv 'in Ivvavrui. 

\. In whatever relates to extended duration, the distinctions, 
some of them highly important, which are marked by the 
various phrases employed by the inspired writers, are almost 



460 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



entirely lost sight of in our English version. The resources 
of our language, few as they are, might certainly have fur- 
nished the means of exhibiting the difference between one 
form of expression and another. In relation to endless life 
the Apostles use more than one phrase, as if to encompass the 
great idea on all sides. So shall we be for ever — 7ravrore, 
not eiQ tov atwva, with the Lord. The faithful shall be made 
pillars in the temple of God, and shall go no more out — 
e^u) ov jiy e^eXdy en, a mode of expression as conclusive as 
language well admits of. 



XXVIII. 



THE PERPETUITY OF HUMAN 
NATURE. 

<f THIS MORTAL MUST PUT ON IMMORTALITY." 



And now are we to rest here ? Should we 
come to the conclusion that the heirship of end- 
less life, though it be clung to firmly, is a matter 
so vast and inconceivable that it may not become 
the subject of deliberate meditation, but must 
remain a vague expectation, until it be entered 
upon ? There is a semblance of modesty, or 
devout humility in such a conclusion; and yet 
indolence, or earthliness, or frivolity, may have 
part in it ; and we may as properly be jealous of 
these, as careful not to trench upon those. 

We must recur to a principle already men- 
tioned, namely — That the Christian doctrine of 
the resurrection of the body, places subjects of 
this class in a position very different from that 
which they might otherwise have occupied. 
If a simple announcement had been made to us 
of — a future, and an endless life, we might well 
have thought that it would bear so little analogy 
to the present condition of man as scarcely to 
come within the range of our conjectures. 



462 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



How probable is it, we might then have said, 
that the most elaborate conceptions will prove 
to have been utterly erroneous, as well in prin- 
ciple, as in circumstance ; and that the labour 
of the mind in anticipating futurity, will be idle, 
even as a dream. 

But the Christian hope of immortality is not 
altogether of this vague or unsubstantial kind : 
on the contrary, although much brevity belongs 
to the announcement, it is not indeterminate. 
It is human nature, in its essential elements, 
that is to inherit eternity ; not an ethereal rudi- 
ment, just saved from the wreck of the former 
fabric, and just serving to connect, as by a film 
of identity, the earthly with the heavenly state. 
It is " This Mortal that must put on Immor- 
tality :" the very nature now subject to disso- 
lution, is to escape from the power of death, and 
to clothe itself in imperishable vigour. Do we 
want at once a confirmation and an exemplifi- 
cation of this doctrine ? We have both in the 
resurrection of the Lord. 

Whatever belongs especially to the economy of 
the present animal life is of course understood 
to drop with the dissolution of the body, for a 
capital distinction is insisted upon between the 
earthly and the celestial natures ; but all other 
elements are to be perpetuated. And the modes 
of action, and the sentiments, and the affections, 
which now are human, and rational, will then be 
so, even when man shall have set out anew upon 



THE PERPETUITY OF HUMAN NATURE. 463 

the road of life. It is therefore by no means 
either presumptuous, or idle, to look inward 
upon the actual principles or machinery of our 
nature, and to ask — How shall these same powers 
work, one upon another, when they come to 
have their play at large upon the fields of bound- 
less existence ? We may lawfully thus ruminate 
upon ourselves, may enkindle the embers of hope 
within our bosoms, and look, with a steady intel- 
ligence, to that after state, which is to be the 
consummation of the present. The proper 
office of religious meditation is to sever the pre- 
cious from the vile; to throw off from the im- 
mortal spirit, the adjuncts and degradations that 
oppress it ; and to borrow something from the 
inexhaustible riches of eternity, for ennobling 
the poverty of time. 

The human mind is liable to two kinds of 
sudden revolution, each giving a new character 
to its emotions, and a new direction to its facul- 
ties. The first is when every habit, nay, almost 
the identity of the character, is broken up by 
some disastrous stroke, which levels to the dust 
possessions and honours, and every cherished 
hope, and sends a man forth, as if upon a strange 
scene of things, with faculties, mature indeed, 
but not adapted to the usages of that sphere 
which must now give them exercise. The recol- 
lection of his former life is a dream, that only 
the more alienates him from the realities of the 



464 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



present. The second kind of revolution is of a 
happier kind, as when a man, by an unlooked-for 
turn of fortune, is in an hour raised from obscu- 
rity and penury, or from inaction and discredit 
(which he had believed to be his unalterable lot) 
to high employments, and dignity, and affluence ; 
to a station where at once he finds scope for 
those powers of mind of which heretofore he had 
almost feared to think himself the possessor, 
and which his good sense, as well as modesty, 
had taught him to repress, more than to cherish. 
In such an hour of elevation, a sound under- 
standing, healthfully excited, rather than made 
giddy, and much less moved by the adjuncts of 
high fortune, than by the substantial matters 
that claim attention, bends all its thoughts to 
the principles of conduct, and to the temper, 
which now are called for. Such a one loses 
little time in idle amazement at his own promo- 
tion ; but with diligence adjusts his latent and 
unpractised powers to the functions of his place ; 
and even if a day be given to exultation, to- 
morrow finds him — the man of his order, serene, 
energetic, and familiarly occupied with the great 
cares that have fallen into his hand. 

This kind of sudden change is in fact only 
a natural expansion of existing powers : it is 
so that the blossom unfurls its ripened gaiety 
to the sun ; so that life, ordinarily, breaks from 
its confinements ; and so, as we may well be- 
lieve, that the sons of immortality shall awake 



THE PERPETUITY OF HUMAN NATURE. 465 

to their lot in the future world. Doubt and sad- 
ness, and the pusillanimity that infests depres- 
sion, shall be forgotten ; the husk has withered, 
and is fallen, and all is vigour, and freshness, 
and growth. The child of heaven breathes at 
length his proper element ; looks without amaze- 
ment over the endless road that lies outstretched 
at his feet ; does not wonder to feel himself 
immortal, and thinks nothing strange, but that 
he should ever have doubted of eternity as his 
inheritance. 

Shall the first clear prospect of this inherit- 
ance — a possession never to be spent, and never 
forfeited, generate a feeling like that with which 
vast wealth is grasped ? In like manner as the 
love of sensual pleasure is only (as we have 
said) a perversion of the original instinct of our 
nature, so is cupidity, and the lust of property 
(one of the firmest and most permanent of the 
passions) a perversion also of the native impulse 
of the mind to embrace and retain something 
which it may call, without dispute, its own. 
The vicious sentiment that has attached itself 
to this strong impulse, must not prevent our 
acknowledging that it takes its rise from the 
very roots of the human mind ; and if so, shall, 
in some manner, find at length a just sphere of 
exercise. Perhaps we might assume it as true, 
that the independence with which intelligent 
natures are endowed, and which distinguishes 

H H 



466 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



such from all inferior orders, and which is the 
ground too, or necessary condition of the moral 
system, demands, or involves, an emotion of this 
sort. The pleasurable sense of possession is, as 
we presume, a proper constituent of an intelli- 
gent and accountable being. We scarcely find 
a trace of any such passion among the lower 
tribes. Man is the only proprietor on earth, 
and the only miser. It is by blind instinct that 
the bee and the ant fill their garners. 

Man's ignorance of what himself is capable of 
enjoying throws him upon the capital error of 
looking to things exterior and alienable as his 
wealth ; and in making this ill choice, he heaps 
to himself a world of care ; for a thousand 
accidents may intervene between his passion 
and its object. Thus it is that, while other 
irregular desires bring their retributive sorrow 
after the hour of gratification is gone by, Ava- 
rice stands, scourge in hand, over her victim, 
and inflicts a cruel pang, at every instant. No 
such error or disorder shall have place in the 
world of perfection : the strong instinct of the 
soul shall be turned inward ; and how shall we 
conceive of the force it must suddenly acquire 
when its object is nothing less than a title to 
endless life ! We say, suddenly acquire ; and 
yet it may be conceived that the impression 
which, during its terrestrial course, has fixed 
itself deeply in the mind, of the brevity and near 
termination of all enjoyments, will be carried 



THE PERPETUITY OF HUMAN NATURE. 467 

forward awhile, even into eternity, nor at once 
be obliterated. Perhaps some experience of the 
solid and permanent quality of happiness in the 
future world must be had, before the mind shall 
become fully awake to the sense of its boundless 
property in joy. It may have advanced a good 
way on the road of endless life, and may have 
looked on with exultation to a remote eminence 
of the great horizon, bright in the beams of 
perpetual day, toward which it is advancing, 
before the thought distinctly arises — that that 
far distant height, even when attained, shall 
but afford a new prospect of a still wider ex- 
panse of the plains of eternity. This it is 
to be wealthy: this is possession — to have in 
the bosom the principle of immortality, and 
while conscious of it, to look abroad upon a 
world of pleasure, whereon there is nothing 
exclusive. 

— This is wealth ! and yet it is held on 
conditions. What were eternity without the 
providence and promise of God ? Let it be sup- 
posed that beings like ourselves were to enter 
upon unbounded duration, under the fairest cir- 
cumstances, and in possession of all powers and 
means of enjoyment ; nevertheless it would be 
felt that the revolution of all possible events 
which eternity includes, must, if uncontrolled, 
bring into jeopardy, in turn, every source of 
happiness, and every principle of virtue. Al- 
though it were true that happiness and virtue 
h h 2 



468 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



might be secured through one period of duration, 
or through many, yet the infinite series will, 
somewhere, place in opposition forces that shall 
clash, and shatter one the other. The powers of 
Eternity are then so many powers of terror to 
the inheritors of immortality, unless they are 
known to be all provided for by the Supreme 
Power. If we do but attentively consider what 
is meant by endless duration, we shall vividly 
feel that the prospect of it, as actually out- 
stretched before us, must compel the soul in 
amazement and dread to throw itself upon the 
Divine care. What, at best, is the foresight of a 
created mind, what are its resolutions, what its 
faculties, what its personal sufficiency, when 
brought into play with the hazards of eternity ? 
Shall not then the dependent spirit eagerly seek 
a refuge, and a strength, and an explicit promise 
too, before it can dare even to look down upon 
that terrible infinity (though it seem crowded with 
delights) which spreads itself out on all sides ? 
Must not the finite, the insufficient being, cling 
to the arm of Omnipotence, when first it sets 
foot upon the road of eternal life ? Will it not 
hold back as it gazes upon the vast unknown, 
and ask to hear those words of consolation — " I 
will never leave thee, no, never forsake thee !" 

This idea brings into view one of those prin- 
ciples, which, as a means, or motive, may 
secure the allegiance of happy and immortal 
beings. With our present feelings, when we 



THE PERPETUITY OF HUMAN NATURE. 469 

look up, and conceive of the loyal hierarchy 
that surrounds the mount of God, we almost 
tremble lest some unlooked-for caprice of the 
voluntary power should surprise any, and in a 
moment hurl them from their standing. But, 
not to mention other principles of conservation, 
is it not true that all orders, from their high po- 
sition, look forward through the unnumbered 
eras of duration, which each for himself has yet 
to pass through ? and who knows what strange 
occasions those eras may produce, or who di- 
vine what trials may yet sleep in the womb of 
eternity ? Certain devout expressions of confi- 
dence in God, which we ordinarily presume to 
be applicable only to this present state of pains 
and fears, may perhaps be heard (who shall say 
they are not ?) to ring even around the throne in 
the heavens, among those who, better taught 
than we are, the great lesson of the frailty and 
dependence of finite beings, tremble in the con- 
sciousness of their own endless existence, and 
prostrating themselves before God, exclaim— 
Thou art our Refuge and Strength, our Rock 
and High Tower : in Thee will we be confi- 
dent. What time we are afraid we will trust 
in Thee : yea, in the name of our God will 
we set up our banners. Thy throne, O God, 
is for ever and ever, and we, while pressing 
around the foot of it, are secure in bliss ! 

A blank assurance of security is not that which 



470 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



the Scriptures afford to those who receive the 
Gospel ; for the " promise left us/' sanctioned 
by the " oath of Him who cannot lie," is made 
the vehicle of conveying to the human race 
all the knowledge it can at present receive of 
the ineffable constitution of the Divine Nature. 
The one God — the Father, the Son, and the 
Spirit, is not made known to us in the method 
of an independent revelation of that high mys- 
tery ; but only in its special relation to the 
redemption and ultimate security of man. This 
observable fact (which gave occasion to the error 
of the Modalists and Sabellians) involves a preg- 
nant inference for the future world, and natu- 
rally leads to the supposition, or let it be called 
conjecture, that the same mystery is hereafter 
to evolve itself, to the apprehension of the 
redeemed, on this very principle of its bear- 
ing upon their own preservation. As if the 
personal solicitude of the heirs of eternal life ; 
or rather their sense of dependence and frailty, 
was to be the special motive that should impel 
them intently to gaze upon the Supreme Nature, 
and to watch its gradual developments, that 
they may discern, more and more clearly, the 
immutable reasons of their own safety. 

The Supreme Nature, which includes all per- 
fections and all elements of bliss, need not be 
conceived of as certainly affording to any beings 
a full manifestation of its own constitution. Nor 
perhaps would do so at all, if it were not that 



THE PERPETUITY OF HUMAN NATURE. 471 

this constitution has, in a special manner, been 
involved in the destinies of certain members of 
the intelligent creation. May it distantly be 
conjectured, or vaguely surmised, that the oc- 
currence of evil, and the Divine Acts conse- 
quent upon it, have served to bring forth from 
the Eternal Bosom the long-hidden mystery of 
the mode of the Divine Existence ? Shall it be 
lawful to think that, in suddenly coming forth 
to the rescue of a fallen race, God became mani- 
fest to the eyes of all intelligent orders, as here- 
tofore He had not been ; and that they then 
first beheld the Infinite Nature, in its essential 
distinctions ? 

With more certainty it may be affirmed that 
the economy of human salvation has, to the 
human family, so signalized the distinction of 
the Triune Nature, that it will not again be lost 
sight of, but rather will be more and more 
evolved in the view of the redeemed race. This 
at least may readily be supposed, that human 
minds shall find all their sense of safety, and all 
the calmness of their joy, to spring from their 
knowledge of the Great Mystery, of which on 
earth they had received the rudiments, and 
which heaven shall much more develop. 

The greatest object must always command the 
attention of those who have it in prospect : and 
where the Supreme Being is sensibly present, 
He must fix upon himself every eye. But shall 



472 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



it be so for ever ? Shall active and intelligent 
natures, always advancing, and perhaps rapidly 
advancing, in knowledge as well as in power of 
comprehension, at length attain to such a matu- 
rity and completeness of conception, as to leave 
nothing unfathomed, even in the Infinite Nature ? 
It seems at first sight almost difficult to believe 
the contrary ; for the faculties of knowledge are 
open to what may be termed a law of geome- 
trical progression ; every augment is pregnant, 
and multiplies itself by combination with others. 
Our first thoughts might lead us thus to suppose 
that the accumulations, both of knowledge and 
of the power of comprehension, might at length 
(or must) reach a climax and a pause. But more 
deliberate consideration brings us to a different 
conclusion, which, if it must here be expressed 
in abstruse terms, nevertheless may be readily 
expanded by whoever will fix his mind upon the 
subject. Although the Divine Nature be not in 
any sense mutable or progressive, its perfections 
do, as we see, come into relation with that which 
is both mutable and progressive. In other words, 
there is now going on (and we should believe 
always will be going on) an interaction between 
the power, wisdom, and moral attributes of God, 
on the one hand, and the finite and created 
system on the other. It is only by the fruits 
or products of this interaction that the Divine 
Nature becomes cognizable ; and it might be 
affirmed, almost as a demonstrable verity, that 



THE PERPETUITY OF HUMAN NATURE. 473 

The Infinite Perfections shall never have ex- 
hausted those combinations of which the finite 
and created system is susceptible. If the works 
and dispensations of God are the book in which 
intelligent beings are to read the character of 
the author, we may certainly aver, that the 
commentary shall never reach a close. And not 
merely is it true that there shall be no end to 
the series of facts and events, of products, 
persons, revolutions, and these always various, 
so that there shall be an incessant stream of 
novelties ; but, which is of far more conse- 
quence, all such new products, actors and desti- 
nies, shall be fresh manifestations of the principles 
whence they proceed, and further interpretations 
of the Divine Nature. 

The intelligent and immortal nations, con- 
tinually accumulating their knowledge, and by 
means of these accessions gaining more and 
more power of grasping the principles of celes- 
tial wisdom, shall find, that the effect of such 
advancement is only to give them a still more 
enlarged conception of the immeasurable dis- 
tance between the creature and the Creator. It 
is so that the traveller who ascends slowly the 
steep sides of the Andes, when, stage after stage, 
he looks beneath and around him, and g azes, at 
each advance, upon a wider horizon than before, 
convinces himself that he is actually attaining a 
great elevation above the common level of earth, 
whence he started. And yet, when he looks 



474 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



upward to the starry vault, and sees it now in 
all its amplitude, and through a more translucent 
medium, so as that more distinctly than before 
he is conscious of the vastness and distance of 
the heavenly system, his impression is, not that 
he is getting nearer to the stars ; but rather 
that, though actually he rises, they are drawing 
back to a greater remoteness, and are contemning 
his feeble efforts to climb on high. 

But how shall we at all conceive of that 
strange commixture of sentiments, apparently 
incompatible^ the one with the other, which 
shall result, after the lapse of extended periods, 
from this vastly-augmented sense of the Infini- 
tude of God, on the one hand, and from that 
sense, on the other, of the lessening of the 
distance between the created and the uncreated 
spirit, which (as we have observed before) be- 
longs to the full play of the devout affections ? 
This inconceivable conflict or counterpoise, well 
deserves to be thought of. And we may think 
of it, although imperfectly, because it just makes 
itself felt in the present state. Does there not 
sometimes arise a sort of pleasurable agony in 
the heart, when intimate, affectionate, and even 
tender emotions of gratitude, and love, and com- 
placency, such as the Scriptures authenticate, 
are vividly combined with the ideas of the 
power, majesty, and incomprehensible attributes 
of Him with whom thus we are conversing? 
How do these emotions enhance one the other, 



THE PERPETUITY OF HUMAN NATURE. 475 

until the frailty of the mind compels it to fall 
back to earth. And shall it be, that both this 
affectionate approximation, and this augmented 
sense of the remoteness of the Supreme Being, 
are to go on together through the eras of eter- 
nity, each more and more intense continually, 
and each working upon its antagonist with 
greater force ! The thought of a counterpoise 
like this, how well does it exclude from our 
anticipations of endless life, all idea of stagnation 
or decay ! 



XXIX. 



UNISON OF THE HEAVENLY 
HIERARCHY. 

CHRIST THE HEAD OF ALL PRINCIPALITY AND POWER. 



Let such a state of things he distinctly con- 
ceived of as would be produced among mankind 
if, shall we say, a thousand of the heroes and 
sages of antiquity, men born for domination, 
or born to instruct their fellows — -Cyrus, Numa, 
Pythagoras, Themistocles, Coriolanus, Solon ; 
Epaminondas, Hannibal, Scipio, Sylla; Alex- 
ander, Caesar, Trajan, with others subordinate, 
and fitted to be the ministers of their power, 
had enjoyed immortality on earth from their 
own age to ours, and during the lapse of the 
intervening centuries had been in the midst of 
affairs, and conversant with all revolutions ; 
in one era at the summit of prosperity, in 
another struggling with reverses ; but always 
accumulating theoretic and practical wisdom. 
Let it be supposed that they had long ago 
thrown off, as a man discards the follies of 
boyhood, the prejudices or unsound principles 



UNISON OF THE HEAVENLY HIERARCHY. 477 

of their early course, had learned to concen- , 
trate all motives and passions upon the one 
great purpose of securing to themselves the 
submission of mankind; had been, during all 
that time, so perfecting their knowledge of the 
laws of human affairs, as to enable them almost 
infallibly to predict the course of events, and to 
adapt their conduct to futurity, as if guided by 
an oracle in every practical decision. 

In what manner would our statesmen and 
captains, the men of thirty, fifty, or seventy 
years, beseem themselves in the society, and 
under the orders of the men of twenty cen- 
turies ? How would those who have had expe- 
rience only of, perhaps, as many affairs as they 
could recount in a day, sit in council with 
the Fathers of empire, each of whose personal 
adventures would be more voluminous than the 
entire bulk of our extant universal history ? If 
there be indeed any general principles to which 
the affairs of men and nations are conformed, 
and if also these general principles are much 
entangled with indirect or latent causes, then 
must an incalculable advantage rest on the side 
of those whose actual knowledge and experience 
was, to that of other men, as fifty or a hundred 
to one. It is hard to imagine any sort of com- 
munion, or of combined agency, or even any 
mutual good-will and respect, among parties so 
immensely unequal. With the seniors, the cour- 
tesies of conversation must have been insincere 



478 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



— mere affectations of sociality, and a voluntary 
humility, more mortifying to the juniors, than 
open arrogance and contempt. With the juniors, 
silence and servility would have been the only 
mode of good sense ; manly independence must 
have seemed the most egregious folly. Wisdom 
would rather be crushed in the germ, than che- 
rished, in such society. 

And yet what is it that we have to look to in 
the world of immortality ? Are there no ancients 
in that world, no superiorities ? are we not 
infallibly told that it contains Thrones, Princi- 
palities, Powers ? Are there not probably (nay 
can we believe otherwise) are there not, in that 
world, a thousand servants of the Most High, 
who have occupied posts of trust and honour at 
the right hand of universal dominion, while suns 
and planets have been running through their 
destined periods, and have vanished? On this 
matter of fact the brief but intelligible notices of 
Revelation accord entirely with the suppositions 
of sound reason. The Sadducean belief that 
man is the only intelligent order in the crea- 
tion, or the most ancient order, is an opinion 
very much on a level, as to its abstract pro- 
bability, with that of those sages who deem the 
stars and planets, the sun and the moon, to be 
nothing more than spangles or fiery points in 
our mundane firmament. 

Reason would indeed easily assent to the 



UNISON OF THE HEAVENLY HIERARCHY. 479 

supposition that tribes and orders immensely 
unequal in power and knowledge, should keep 
to their several abodes, and observe impassable 
intervals between rank and rank. This would 
evade the difficulty. But the implied meaning 
of certain scriptural phrases leads us to a dif- 
ferent belief — namely, that man is to take no 
subaltern position in the great world; and on 
the contrary, is to enter, on terms of honour, 
into the highest communities. We have then 
to seek for the principle which shall harmonize 
such a system ; and we find it at once if it be 
assumed that when the Eternal Word was made 
flesh, when He who was "before all things, 
and in whom all things consist," humbled him- 
self to the level of mortality, and " passing by 
the nature of angels," took upon him a nature 
" somewhat lower," there was a purpose in- 
volved which goes beyond the immediate re- 
sults of the propitiatory work of the Redeemer ; 
so that when his vicarious functions shall have 
reached their completion, the union of the Di- 
vine and human natures shall continue to bear 
a relation to the social economy of the great 
immortal family in the heavens, and shall for 
ever subsist, as the reason of communication 
and of harmony, among all ranks. 

The mystery of redemption has fairly brought 
all suppositions within our range ; for the most 
amazing facts must still be inferior to this. We 



480 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



may say then that, when the Eternal Word took 
upon him the nature of man, he embraced in one 
bond of love all intermediate orders. Without 
annulling real and native inequalities, without 
degrading the high, for the sake of the low, 
he brought in a law of relationship, which at 
once obliges the highest to recognize a dignity 
in the lower, and enables the lower, without 
presumption, to take the place assigned them. 
If analogies or comparisons on such subjects did 
not spoil our conceptions, as much as aid them, 
we might find illustrations in the history and 
affairs of men, in some degree applicable to our 
theme. But at least we may discover in our 
bosoms a natural sentiment, that will aid the 
mind in conceiving of the influence which the 
assumption of our nature by the Divine Nature, 
may exert in familiarizing the human spirit with 
other orders, let them be lofty as they may. 
Shall the elder and princely personages of the 
celestial polity think it irksome to live as bre- 
thren with the race of Adam ? Shall they draw 
off to their privileged quarters, and consort only 
with their peers ? This were to stand aloof from 
the Throne, or to be distant from Him who is 
the Visible Manifestation of the Invisible God. 

And the same great scheme may also serve to 
illustrate signally, in the view of all beings, 
the important truth — That whoever is capable 
of knowing God, and whoever actually loves 
Him, is therefore capable of any function, and 



UNISON OF THE HEAVENLY HIERARCHY. 481 

eligible to any dignity. What is there that may 
not be comprehended, or achieved, by an intel- 
ligent agent who has attained to intimate friend- 
ship with the Most High ? What task is there 
too arduous to be confided to those whom the 
Son of God calls his brethren and his friends ? 
If human nature had, in its native construction, 
lacked any capital element — intellectual or moral, 
that is possessed by higher orders, it could not 
have admitted of such an alliance as it has. But 
in the scheme of redemption, the original pur- 
pose of the Creator, when he said — " Let us 
make man in our image," is at once expounded 
and authenticated, and it is seen that nothing 
great or illustrious was to be denied him. 

Once well harmonized by a principle so effi- 
cient as that here spoken of, diversities of rank, 
power, office, and attainment, existing within 
the same circle of intercourse, cannot fail to be 
the source of peculiar pleasures and of mutual 
advancement. It is so even on earth, and would 
be so in a vastly greater degree, if it were not 
for the presence of malign and selfish passions. 
In truth, both arrogance and modesty operate 
as impediments to the expansion of faculties, 
where self-love is purblind, and petulant. If 
men were jealous of no rivalry, ambitious of no 
exclusive praise, in fear of no misinterpreta- 
tions, fretted by no errors of estimation, encum- 
bered by no diffidence, offspring of pride and 

i i 



482 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



infirmity ; if, in a word, they were impelled 
always by simple and direct motives, the minds 
of all would start up with a new energy, and 
move at another rate, than heretofore. On the 
one hand, the spectacle of signal instances of 
power and virtue, if the bosoms of all were 
purged of envy, would furnish an exhilarating 
motive that must at once strengthen and ani- 
mate all minds ; just as the most invigorating 
warmth is produced on the surface of the earth, 
not so much by the direct radiance of the sun, 
as by the reverberation of his rays from the sides 
of hills, rocks, edifices. 

Neither is it in a small degree that the morbid 
sensitiveness of the selfish principle in the mass 
of mankind, gives embarrassment to those who 
are conscious of superior power. The native 
differences between man and man are not great 
enough to be quite incompatible with a system 
of ostensible equality. The law of equality is 
therefore respected in society, as a convenient 
means of avoiding the collisions of self-love, and 
the contestations of arrogance and vanity. By 
a tacit convention, all are to beseem themselves 
as if all were on a par. But this figment, which 
draws its reason from pride, imposes a real dis- 
advantage upon those who, in complying with 
it, have, if not to hold their personal advantages 
in abeyance, at least to assume a posture which 
makes the native stature of the mind to cringe. 
Freed effectively from the feelings that arise 



UNISON OF THE HEAVENLY HIERARCHY. 483 

from this artificial equalization of mankind, how 
would all powers spring into action ! 

No such disadvantage shall belong to the 
great community of heaven. Even if it were 
desirable, it could not be effected, in a system 
which combines inequalities a thousand times 
greater than any that are to be found among 
men. But in truth the disguise by which on 
earth it is attempted to make all men seem on a 
par, will not be needed in heaven, for the blind- 
ness of self-love will be dispelled, the arrogance 
of ambition will not exist, nor will envy pine 
there. And may we again revert to the suppo- 
sition, that the presence and supremacy of the 
Incarnate Word shall operate among the diverse 
and unequal orders as a special principle of har- 
mony in which the highest shall find more than 
motive enough for moderation, and the lowest 
a motive (most peculiar) that must dispel abject 
timidity. In Him " all things consist" (things 
heavenly) who being exalted " far above prin- 
cipalities and powers," brings together, in the 
mystery of his person, the least and the greatest, 
the most recent, and the most ancient of the 
intelligent tribes. 

Of the heavenly edifice, still more emphatically 
than of the militant church, it may be affirmed, 
that Jesus is " the key-stone of the pediment, in 
whom all the structure duly framed, increaseth 
to a holy temple, even in the Lord." Or the 



484 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



figure being changed — 6( He is the head, related 
to which all the members are jointed together, 
and firmly compacted ; so as that by rendering, 
according to their several functions, mutual aid, 
the entire body continually augments itself in 
power and love." In the doctrine of the human 
and divine nature of Christ we have an effective 
principle of sociality among unequal orders ; and 
the more we meditate on the subject, the more 
shall we see its fitness to answer this purpose ; 
and the more be disposed to think, that without 
it, no such communion would be practicable. 

At least to the human race the headship of 
the Incarnate Word must form the reason of an 
indissoluble union among all the members. How 
probable may it seem, on mere grounds of ra- 
tional calculation, that the protracted eras of 
eternal life might for ever separate those who, 
in starting upon such a course, are prepared to 
move at vastly different rates. So far as such an 
illustration is applicable to the subject, it may 
be said that, while the lower and physical powers 
of human nature are capable of improvement or 
augmentation only at the rate of arithmetical 
progression, its higher powers of knowledge, intel- 
ligence, and virtue, are suceptible of geometrical 
progression ; that is to say, of increase and ex- 
pansion by working one upon the other ; as well 
as by simple accessions. The several intellectual 
and moral faculties are to each other, when fully 
put in play, as multiplicator and multiplicand; 



UNISON OF THE HEAVENLY HIERARCHY. 485 

and each new product is a new power of accele- 
ration. If SO; every initial advantage is an 
incalculable one, when an endless series is in 
view. And it may seem almost inevitable to 
believe that the difference among the compe- 
titors, at a remote stage of their course, will 
be immeasurably greater than it was at its 
commencement. 

How then shall these unequal velocities be 
kept in harmony ? A difficult problem, unless 
we conceive of all as performing their endless 
circuits around one and the same Centre of 
Light. On this plan, the wider orbits, always 
embracing the smaller, shall maintain unity and 
neighbourhood. Of Him who is the centre of 
that system it is said, that (( the fulness of 
Deity dwells in him ;" that " all the treasures 
of wisdom and knowledge are hid in him ; " 
so that He, standing incomparably above the 
highest created minds, and yet condescending to 
maintain familiar intercourse with the feeblest, 
shall hold all extremes in amity. Unison is the 
word which at once characterises true religion, 
and describes the upper world. And of this 
unison Christ is the principle, both in heaven 
and on earth. Because in heaven " all things 
are subject to the Son," heaven is happy; and 
on earth man is not happy, because this is not 
the fact. And so within the circle of the church 
there is peace, and joy, and the energy of ex- 
pansion, when the church is one in Christ : — 



486 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



there is dejection, and doubt, and a sickly or 
inefficient zeal, when the honour which belongs 
to Him as the centre of Love, is given to the 
idols of discord. 

" From Him every family # in heaven and 
earth is denominated ;" — pregnant words, which 
at once reveal the mysteries of the upper world, 
and are prophetic of the future condition of 
mankind. It is even now true that " all in 
heaven," those who have reached their per- 
fection, are bowing to that name, " which is 
above every name ; " and true also, that the 
innumerable souls in waiting around the " spiri- 
tual tabernacle," though gathered from " many 
kindreds, and tribes," of earth, rejoice in Him 
only whose " memorial is with them," and 
whose name contains the reason of their hope of 
the expected redemption of the body. 

But in its reference to earth, this affirmation is 
anticipative, or prophetic, in two senses. It must 
receive its completion, first, in the conversion of 
all tribes of men to the faith of Christ ; and 
then in the final and complete disappearance from 
the church of these vilifying designations, which 
at present signalize the common appellative — 
Christian, only to defame it, by calling up the 
recollection, either of corruptions, or of strife. 

* Ilao-a TraTpia, not the whole family ; but all tribes^ or 
races. The author is not ignorant that the predication 
(Ephes. iii. 15) is by some attributed to the Father; but he 
must profess to hold with those who assign it to the Son. 



UNISON OF THE HEAVENLY HIERARCHY. 487 

It is indeed true that men, nay multitudes, 
from all the several stocks or distinctly charac- 
terised families of mankind, have become, at 
some time in the course of eighteen centuries, or 
are now, members of the Christian community ; 
and have, in their several tongues, invoked the 
sacred name of Jesus, and have borne it as their 
glory and opprobrium. Every generic form of 
human speech (extant or extinct) has been con- 
secrated as the medium of prayer and praise, 
addressed to Him, of whom it is declared that, 
" all nations shall worship Him." But the first 
fruits are not the harvest ; and if we do not 
misinterpret the most significant and emphatic 
phrases, the era shall come when, at one and 
the same time, men of every colour and every 
dialect shall be called by the name of Christ. 
Or may we suppose that even this the best and 
most comprehensive of all designations, shall 
then cease to be thought of, because no longer 
distinctive, but universal ? By what order of 
means the mighty renovation shall be effected, 
it does not belong to us confidently to divine ; 
our part is to use, with diligence, such as are 
actually in our power, as well as incessantly to 
pray that these means, or others, may speedily 
be made efficacious. 

The second sense in which the glory of Christ, 
as Head over all things, remains to be con- 
summated on earth, is in the final disappearance 



488 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



of all distinctive names but the one which His 
name confers : and who can doubt but what 
the two events are intimately connected ? The 
connexion between them may be predicated in 
every form, positively and negatively, and in 
every form it is true. While the church was 
one, Christianity spread ; or should we not say, 
burst over the world, gathering myriads of con- 
verts from lands within and far beyond the limits 
of the Roman empire. When Christians became 
factious, when other names than the name of 
Christ were called upon them, then the evangeli- 
cal circle drew in apace : no more conquests were 
made, or they were conquests purely nominal ; 
and ere long the fierce Avenger of the Lord's 
quarrel with his church, breaking bounds, sword 
in hand, from his sultry Arabian sands, drave 
the distracted flock from field to field, until the 
Christian name was near to be quite lost from 
the world. 

Nothing effectively was done after this to 
retrieve the honours of the cross, or to carry 
the name of Christ beyond its restricted circle, 
during the lapse of fourteen centuries. Not 
even in the bright hour w 7 hen truth broke at 
length from its confinements, not even then, 
when the great trumpet of the Gospel was again 
loudly blown throughout Christendom, was any 
voice heard in the wilderness, or the solitary 
places of the world, calling idolatrous men to 
salvation. That was indeed a time of Truth, 



UNISON OF THE HEAVENLY HIERARCHY. 489 

but not of Love, and therefore, though a season 
of renovation, was not one of enlargement. And 
because the church of that day did not discharge 
its duty, in zealously attempting to propagate 
the faith, but rather employed itself in vain 
jangling, it was soon given up to the spirit of 
discord ; and thence naturally sank through the 
stages of formality, and frivolity, and absurdity, 
till it reached general unbelief. 

The sudden reappearance, in our own times, 
of the primitive zeal for evangelizing the world, 
has filled all minds with bright expectations, 
and justly so. But these expectations are not 
infallible, nay, may actually prove fallacious. 
This very same benevolent desire to bring all 
men into the fold of Christ, heretofore existed 
in the highest imaginable vigour ; but after 
gathering an abundant harvest, in a brief season, 
it died away : the polytheistic world heard no 
more of the Gospel, century after century. In the 
course of a thousand years scarcely a single light 
was carried into the centre of the gross darkness 
that covered the earth ; or if carried, was soon 
extinguished. 

Should we learn nothing from the contempla- 
tion of such a course of events ? Shall we fear 
nothing when we have proof before us, that 
the principles of the Divine government actually 
admit of the long-continued and almost total 
withdrawment of efficacious influence from the 



490 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



church ? Shall we take no warning when a 
lesson like this is drawn out at large in our 
view, and we see that the Lord adheres to a 
system of Public Retribution, in His conduct 
toward his people, as a body, and that when 
they refuse to hearken to his voice in capital 
matters, He retires, as if in grief, to the recesses 
of the invisible state, and though He preserves 
the spark of piety on earth from extinction, will 
do no more ? Thus was it in fact, from the 
sixth to the sixteenth century. 

And did there not follow another withdraw- 
ment of Divine agency from the church at 
large, soon after the age of the Reformation ? 
That was a time in which Christians might have 
returned to the simplicity of charity and fervour ; 
but they did not ; and He whose primary com- 
mand was slighted drew back. 

It is now confidently believed on all hands 
that no such punitive abandonment of the 
Christian body is any more to be feared. But 
on what does this confidence rest ? There are 
two grounds on which it might rest, with some 
degree of assurance. Of these the first would 
be the fact of an open, and unquestionable pre- 
valence, throughout the protestant communities, 
of a spirit of contrition, on account, both of the 
corruptions and the discords that have so long 
existed within them, together with a cordial 
expression of willingness to make, or admit, 
every necessary reform. But is this the actual 



UNISON OF THE HEAVENLY HIERARCHY. 491 

state of things ? and is this the source of the 
confidence we indulge, that the Lord will not 
again withdraw Himself from his church ? Alas ! 
we dare not profess it. 

The second source from which a happy and 
confident expectation of this sort might be 
drawn, would be the indubitable import of the 
prophetic Scriptures, declaring that, notwith- 
standing all appearances of an opposite kind, the 
" bright appearance of the Lord drew nigh." 
But our argument is still unsettled, and our path 
not ascertained on this ground. None but the 
most presumptuous will say otherwise. Even 
without controverting any of the best established 
conclusions of modern prophetical exposition, 
there is room for the supposition that Christi- 
anity may yet have to sustain a signal reverse,, 
and once more be driven in upon its centre. 

Without pretending to deny that a far more 
agreeable supposition may be entertained, it may 
be surmised, as not altogether improbable — That, 
after the several reformed communities, in the 
old and new world, have enjoyed their now cur- 
rent term of reaniination, a term fast running 
out, and have distinctly been called to repent- 
ance, and have deliberately refused to give heed 
to that call, and have replied — We need not, 
will not do otherwise than we do, or than our 
fathers have done ; that then the fatal decree 
shall go out, not audible indeed by mortal 



492 



SATURDAY EVENING. 



ears, but certain in its effects. Unbelief and 
secularity, and strife, shall rush abroad and 
make an easy conquest. Perhaps the work of 
devastation may be consummated by temporal 
judgments, and the enemies of the Gospel may 
be looking every moment for its expulsion from 
the world. 

Meanwhile, in some new quarter, where the 
soil is now unbroken, the imperishable seed shall 
be seen to have fallen into good ground, and 
shall rapidly spring up, and the religion of 
Christ appear in its glory, and put on those 
colours that are not to fade. The Lord himself 
shall "plant in the wilderness the beauty of 
Paradise, and shall set in the desert the verdure 
of heaven ; and the nations shall see and know 
and consider, and understand together, that the 
hand of the Lord hath done this ; and the Holy 
One of Israel hath created it ! " 



THE END. 



R. CLAY, PRINTED. BRE AT3-STREET-HILL. 



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